We were here
by LadyinWhite15
Summary: -Placed after LOTR- Thranduil will discover that Middle Earth still needs him, even after most elves had left for Valinor. His heart will be awaken in the most unexpected way, feeling the pain, the sadness, the guilt, the love.
1. After 120 years

-'What are you doing in my room?' she asked returning from the bath chambers.

A tall and handsome elf was standing near the window, looking to the gardens below. He turned towards her in a flowing movement, his long silver hair shining in the pale morning. Sonja could not read anything on his face or in his sharp blue eyes, no gesture, no emotion, like a soulless marble statue.

-'Your room?' the stranger asked. 'I thought the palace and all its rooms belong to the Elvenking', he added with an indifferent tone that only upset her even more.

-'Please leave!' she asked him, her voice masking a deep sadness that was in fact clearly apparent to the elf.

He did not reply to her plea and instead started to play with a few objects placed on the wooden desk near him. There were some strange objects that this human was carrying around with her, enough to stir his curious nature.

-'Don't touch that!' she spoke in a more demanding tone, rushing to grab something from his fair hands.

He felt surprised by her attitude and accidentally dropped the small box on the hard floor, shattering it into pieces.

-'No, no...' Sonja cried, dropping to her knees, near the damaged object.

Her voice sounded empty, as if she was dead. Her black eyes were filled with tears, staring absent at the box. She picked up the pieces with her gentle palms and pulled them closer to her chest. It was clear that the strange box had some great sentimental value to her.

The elf heard her mumbling a few incoherent words, her voice fading by the moment and being replaced by heartbreaking sobs. Her dark hair was flowing in rivers over her bare and skinny shoulders. He stared for a moment at the fragile human before him, not entirely certain how to react.

It's been a week since she first arrived to the palace, accompanied by her half-sister and brother in law. They were travelling west to meet some distant relatives when they heard of the remaining packs of orcs that roamed the forest road and were wise to take refuge inside the halls of Greenwood until the orc matter was dealt with by the elves. And while her two companions were most grateful for the hospitality they were offered, attending banquets, strolling the gardens and marvelling in the knowledge of the ancient library, Sonja had never left her room since she first set foot inside the palace. Her presence had almost gone unnoticed, but not to the wise King Thranduil who felt intrigued by it. How could anyone live so long in solitary?

Her sister told him that ever since the attack on their village almost a year ago, she had never been the same. The loss of her husband Brann and of other family members affected her beyond recovery. That is why they decided to take the journey west. A change in scenery might do them all good and help them chase away the memories of that tragic night.

The King decided he should meet for himself this broken and mysterious human so he strolled inside her chambers uninvited. There he was, a simple elf, having carefully removed his crown and other symbols of royalty, in order to not intimidate her further. Sonja had never met the King so she did not give a single thought for the way she was addressing the stranger that had invaded her room.

-'Get out!' she screamed at him, between her sobs. 'Oh no, Bran, no!' she continued to cry, clutching the pieces tighter and closer to her heart.

It was clearly a gift or reminder of her late husband. She was so shattered with grief, fragile and broken. For a brief moment the King's thoughts flew back to the day he lost his own wife and the immense guilt he had to bear in his heart ever since. He regretted deeply that he had broken the small box and reached for Sonja to try and console her. But before his hand could touch the back of her shoulder, he quickly pulled himself together and left the room without addressing another word, leaving her to her sorrows.

* * *

The large corridor was lit by tens of lanterns hanging from the high ceiling. Thranduil was pacing in silence towards his study. His morning visit had left a deeper impression on him that he would have expected, stirring up memories that he had fought so hard to bury during past centuries. He stopped on a small balcony overlooking his beloved forest, taking in the fresh air.

Now that Sauron had at last been defeated, the world was returning to its old self. Mirkwood was no more. The vast forest had been revived to its former glory, with the shadow losing its grasp over the land. The spiders and filth that once poisoned his kingdom were but a distant memory. The only creatures that still troubled both Elf and Man were the remaining orcs that had survived the War of the Ring, some 120 years ago. They were regrouping in the mountains at Gundabad, preparing to raise an army of their own.

The age of Men had finally arrived. Eldarion, the son of Aragorn and Arwen was now ruling over the unified kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor while most of the elves left for the undying lands across the sea, leaving the Greenwood as the sole Elven stronghold inhabited in Middle Earth. Even Thranduil's son, Legolas, was among those who chose to leave to Valinor. Thranduil was feeling now more alone than ever, but Middle Earth still needed him.

-'Ada!' he heard a voice calling behind him. He first thought it a dream, as it was not uncommon for him to daydream as of late and paid little importance to the voice.

-'Ada!' he heard the call again. This time he turned to look back into the large corridor.

Stepping out of the shadows cast by the grand stone columns, Legolas approached his father with open arms and crashed into his chest. A single tear fell across the King's pale cheek and he felt it salty in the corner of his mouth.

-'I couldn't go, Ada! Not yet', Legolas whispered as tears flooded his eyes.

Thranduil felt Legolas deeply troubled so he held him in silence for a few long minutes before addressing him:

-'Come sit with me, my son! You will tell me about your burdens. But Valar know I am glad to be able to see you one more time.'

The pair moved away from the balcony and into the study. It was a tall dark room lined with magnificent tapestries depicting famous battles of old. Near the window, there was a beautifully carved wooden desk together with a lavish chair and several book shelves filled with ancient manuscripts were framing it. They passed by it and entered the King's private chambers.

-'I have so much to tell you from my journey back here. So much has changed since the shadow was lifted. Ithilien too is as green as it was in the days of old. But I am sad, Ada, sad that I met no more elves roaming the roads of Middle Earth, as they once used to.'

-'Our time here is almost at an end, my son. Tell me, why did you postpone your leave?'

-'I was aboard the ship, ready to set sail. My eyes drifted away on the water's surface and then, the strangest thing happened to me. I heard a voice; it was soothing and warm, speaking to me from beneath the waves. The language was foreign to my years. It seemed very old, even older than Quenya. Though I could not understand the words, I felt a compelling need of returning back to shore. I don't know what happened to me at the harbour, Ada, but I know my time here is not done. I am still needed here for a higher purpose and until I find out what that is, I cannot allow myself leave from this place.'


	2. Dreams of the past

As the night fell, the King retired from the banquet halls to his chambers. It had been a pleasant evening, with dances and laughter, as the elves often spent when enjoying a feast in the grand hall of the palace. For Thranduil, dinner had never been so entertaining, but now that his son was back at his side, he felt that he was once again in high spirits.

Except for the palace guards, all his subjects attended dinner. And of course there was another person missing out on all the festivities. His mind drifted off to her, without even noticing. That small, frail human with her dark and teary eyes, crumbled on the floor at his feet, that made him feel guilt over shattering her box. He decided he would have it fixed for her, before she continued her journey west.

His eyes then fell upon the numerous papers spread out on top of his oak desk. The reports had arrived from the far corners of his kingdom and he should get the chance to review them by morning. Finding sleep elusive, he started working on them under the light of the moon that was illuminating the whole room in lucid splendor. A fading fire was burning in the hearth, but he barely noticed that it was about to go out. He was immersed in his work. There were reports of increasing orc attacks coming from the north and he decided that swift action should be taken against that. He would approach the council in the morning meeting about his concerns in this regard.

It was silent. Winter was drawing near, but not even the cold wind was present tonight. He sat up from his desk and took off his silver crown, then rested his gaze on it for a little while, admiring the elven carvings and jewels decorating it. He was the last Elvenking of Middle Earth, one of the greatest warriors that ever lived and his sense of duty towards this land was increasing with every elf leaving for Valinor. He was no longer the protector of the Greenwood, he was there to ensure the safety of all, to help defeat the dark legions once and for all, before his time will come to sail across the sea with the remaining elves.

At times, he envied the mortals and the way they spent their brief time in the sun. Sonja was mortal. His thoughts drifted back to her. There was something about her that intrigued him so and that made him feel connected to her in an inexplicable way. No matter what he did, his mind kept going back to her and there was no way he could stop this from happening. He had to find out more.

There was ancient elven magic powerful enough to allow him to enter her dreams and gaze into her mind. No matter the implications, he decided to try it tonight and be free from the thoughts that haunt him once and for all.

Looking at the moon above, he closed his cold blue eyes and started to chant in the ancient language of the Valar. He felt a shudder overtake him as he drifted further and further away into a deep meditation. The air around him became warmer and a sweet melody echoed in the back of his mind.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a human village. It was a hot summer night and it seemed like the villagers were having a feast. They were holding hands and dancing around a big fire, under starlight. One among them caught his eye. He was tall, well built, dark haired. His smile was kind as he lifted his gaze from the fire and winked at the King. Thranduil realized he was watching everything through Sonja's eyes. The tall, kind man was Brann, no doubt a memory from before he was so brutally taken from her. The elf felt the deep love and connection that Sonja had in her heart towards the dancing human, as she watched him from the side of the gathering, resting near a tree. For the King, it was something that he hadn't felt in ages and he allowed himself to rejoice in the warmth of the illusion.

The feeling was short lived as Thranduil felt his grip over the dream starting to slip away from him.

-'Get out of my head!' Sonja yelled at him unexpectedly.

Her voice echoed endlessly and made his head hurt badly. It had never happened before, someone to be aware of his presence inside the dream and to try to resist him. The urge of finding out more grew inside of him, the urge to hang on to that feeling he had for mere moments. He desperately tried to maintain his grasp over the dream world but he awoke cold and sweaty and all alone under the moon in his own room.

* * *

Thranduil was angered for allowing himself to feel once more only to be voided of the warmth so soon.

Strong knocks against the massive doors distracted him from his train of thought and he welcomed the servant in his chambers. He was expecting to have breakfast in his private room this morning, but the servant arrived empty handed.

-'My King, the healers sent word. It is the human girl, she is... unwell', he informed in a concerned voice.

-'Take me to her!' the King commanded before his mind could even grasp the situation.

His best healers were tending to Sonja in her room and they did not hide their surprise when the King himself came to check on her condition. She was lying in bed, motionless as if she was sleeping. A cold cloth was placed upon her forehead and her cheeks looked crimson red.

-'What is wrong with her?' the King addressed the gathering.

-'We do not know, my King. She has a high fever. But there is no infection, disease or other apparent reason. We tried to treat her with everything available, but not even Athelas has any effect on her. I am afraid she is only getting worse.'

A shadow of concern started to form on the King's face but he managed to mask it before anyone could notice. He looked upon her face and events of the previous night began to flow into his mind again.

-'Leave us', he commanded and the healers obeyed his orders, though reluctant and a bit surprised at the request.

He sat down on the side of the bed, trying to remember if he ever in his long years had witnessed any similar affliction. His eyes were fixed on the shattered box, placed on the nightstand near her head. He shook his head when he realized he had been staring absently at it for almost half an hour. The elf directed his gaze towards the human once more, wishing there was something he could do for her to ease the pain. He reached out for her small hand and traced the outline of an old scar with his fingers. Her skin felt surprisingly smooth for a human, except for the fine scar left by the tip of a blade. Those small, smooth hands had once been fighting for survival in horrid battles, he thought to himself.

He started chanting the ancient words again only this time he felt like freezing to his very bone. It was a gray twilight on a high mountain peak. Everything looked distorted and strange, in total contrast to the beautiful memory he had witnessed the night before. There was strange lightning in the sky but no rain. He could feel the wind flowing in his long hair, grazing his cheek in hunger. For a moment he thought he was alone in this land touched by the shadow. But then he saw her, cradled at the foot of a cliff, helpless and naked, chained in irons to the cold stone. Her eyes were closed and she was barely breathing as blood was coming out of her wounds. Thranduil noticed the lash left by the blade on her hand but his eyes were drawn to the bigger wound in her abdomen, still oozing with red. She was shivering uncontrollably as she kept calling for someone, but he did not understand her words.

The King approached her and placed his outer robe over her shoulders, to try and keep the wind from hurting her. She stopped shivering and only then he realized that she was calling out for a baby. It took all his might to pull the iron shackles from the stone wall. Then he lifted her from the ground and cradled her in his arms, walking away from the mountain top. He felt her moving close to his chest and when he looked upon her, she opened her eyes. He got lost inside their shiny darkness, like the endless sky of a starry night and, breathless, he woke up on the side of her bed.

-'You're here...' she whispered as she batted her long and heavy lashes, revealing her amazingly black eyes.

Thranduil was startled by the sound of her voice and released her hand from his. He stood up abruptly, his face voided of any sentiment once more as he glanced at her. She looked so tired... But she was awake and the crimson in her cheeks was gone.

-'I think you will be alright', he told her. 'I will send for the healers. You should rest.'

She rewarded him with a faint smile before drifting back to sleep.


	3. Two arrows

Five days had passed since Sonja's miraculous recovery. The healers could not explain to themselves what caused her illness or triggered her unexpected recovery and were still keeping her under observation.

The King came to visit her in the morning as he did every day since, only to find her in the same spot, near the window, motionless and lost in thought. There was nothing wrong with her mind or body, the healers told him after they completed a thorough examination. They found a big scar across her abdomen and Thranduil immediately understood that what he had discovered in her dream was nothing short of reality. Sonja had known not only the loss of her husband, but that of her unborn child. With a wound that terrible, he was sure she would never be able to have any children and his heart felt for her, understanding her grief much better now.

-'Are you well?' He asked her, like he did every day for the past five visits. And like for his every visit, she did not reply or look at him, just stared absent minded out the tall window.

As he was about to walk out of the room she called for him, without averting her gaze from the garden below.

-'I know you are the King', she said. 'You waste your time coming to visit... Don't. There is nothing you can do for me. '

He turned back and walked slowly towards her.

-'As you wish', he whispered. 'Here, I fixed it for you', he added, placing the small box on the desk next to her, before taking his leave.

She shuddered as if awaking from a long slumber and turned her head towards the box. But before she could voice her thoughts, he was gone.

* * *

Three more days passed, but he did not come to visit anymore.

Her half-sister and brother in law had to depart from the palace before the blizzards would arrive, entrusting her wellbeing to the elven healers in Thranduil's halls. She seemed to have recovered quite nicely in their care but feared that if they were to take her west with them so soon that she might relapse.

Sonja was now more alone than ever, burying her feelings of emptiness in the books the servants provided her with.

As she opened her eyes, something felt different to her that morning. The light inside the room seemed brighter than ever before, but at the same time soothing and cold.

The floor made a cracking sound under her bare feet as she started to move around the room.

Leaning to look through the window, she found the garden shrouded with a veil of white, fresh snow. A few young elflings were playing outside, their noses red and their eyes sparkling with joy. Further away, Legolas and his father were slowly pacing on an alley between some old statues, discussing in guarded whispers. And then the Elvenking lifted his eyes, looking straight at her, and his gaze was so intense that Sonja felt it could shatter the great distance between them and burn upon her cheeks. She remained there hooked into his eyes until he turned his attention to Legolas once more, inviting him to step further into the gardens and stroll beneath ancient oaks dusted with white.

It was still snowing and big flakes kept sticking to the window in front of her, allowing her to study their different shapes and sizes with unexpected interest.

-'They are beautiful, are they not? '

Sonja turned around as she recognized the cold and calculated voice of the King behind her. She did not even try to mask her surprise at his presence there. His elegant flowing robes were perfectly matching the hues in his eyes and the stones in his crown. It was the first time she was looking upon him in his royal clothes and something about him made her feel very small before his gaze on her.

-'I.. I... thank you! ' she struggled to speak. 'For fixing my box. '

The King dropped his mask of indifference for mere moments, enough for her to notice the smile born on his flawless lips.

-'You will accompany me outside today', he added in a commanding tone that puzzled her.

He observed the slight change behind her eyes and spoke in a more reassuring way:

-'You have nothing to fear from me, child! And as long as you are under my protection, no harm shall reach you again. Now come to me! '

Sonja moved reluctantly to meet his extended arm and rested her small hand upon it. The King led her down a winding set of stairs towards the snow engulfed garden.

The freezing air stung her cheeks and only then did she realize that she had forgotten to get her cloak from the chair, before stepping outside. Her cold torment was short lived though, as a few guards approached the King with haste, causing him to release her arm and greet them.

-'Orcs, my King, they have breached our borders, to the north. A few of our soldiers have fallen already', they informed him, bowing their heads before his crown.

-'Legolas! ' Thranduil called for his son. 'Take Sonja and the others back to the palace and ready your bow! We are hunting orcs this day. '

* * *

It was late at night when she heard the commotion coming from the corridor. She knew that orcs would never breach the gates of the elven palace, but still she could not stop but wander what was going on. Leaving the comfort of her bed, she strolled along the endless hallway until she came upon one of the healers, rushing out of the King's chamber with a bloodied cloth in his hands. She did not dare to stop him in his path, but when she saw him returning she decided to tag along and entered the room together with him.

It seemed to her much larger than she had imagined it would be, with its high vaulted ceiling and beautifully sculpted wooden columns supporting its weight. Her attention was then drawn to the crowd of people gathered inside the room, speaking in the Elvish tongue, still foreign to her ears. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Legolas, leaning pale against a column, his tunic drenched in blood.

-'Are you alright? ' she asked him but he seemed absent minded, staring down at the floor.

There were no apparent wounds to his body so the blood was not his. It was not as dark as the blood of the orcs, which could only mean that the red staining his clothes belonged to another elf. His father, the King!

She made her way through the concerned crowd and her gaze found him, lying motionless in his bed, with two black iron arrows sticking out of his chest.


	4. Winter song

She made her way through the concerned crowd and her gaze found him, lying motionless in his bed, with two black iron arrows sticking out of his chest.

His armor and clothes had been removed from his chest and the healers were working thoroughly around his wounds. He was still alive, but barely breathing.

-'We need to take them out or the poison will kill him before dawn breaks on the eastern sky', the healer decided.

-'Don't! ' Sonja shouted unexpectedly and Legolas seemed to finally become aware of her presence by his father's bed side.

She was looking at him closely, studying the angles of the arrows penetrating his body.

-'He will bleed out in seconds if you take them out', she continued, without anyone interrupting her words.

-'I cannot lose my Adar. He got hurt because of me', Legolas spoke in his grief. 'The arrows were meant for me. Help him, Arvellon!' he almost begged the healer, tears flooding his deep blue eyes.

-'My Prince, if we take them out, he will bleed to death. If we leave them in, the shadow in the poison will take him all the same, only more slowly and agonizing. What would you have us do? '

-'There might be something we can try, but will hurt beyond imagining. My lord Legolas?' Sonja asked for his approval only to find him absent minded again. 'Legolas!' she yelled at him, slapping him across his face.

The elf jumped as he had been burnt by dragon fire, his sharp eyes looking upon her in anger. The room had gone completely silent after the sound of her slap upon his cheek. All the elves present were staring at her, open-mouth, as they waited for their Prince to react to her actions.

-'Get this human out of here!' he cried. 'She has no business being in my father's chambers!'

-'I can save him', she repeated, before the guards could get a hold of her. 'Legolas, please!'

-'What can a human possibly know of healing?' Arvellon voiced his concerns in a condescending tone.

-'Would you rather let him die then?'she asked.

-'What would you have us do, Sonja?' the Prince asked, vanquishing all anger from his thoughts and regaining his composure.

-'I need you to find the brightest, hottest burning flame in the palace. When human warriors are hurt on the field of battle we burn their wounds in order to prevent infection and close them instantly. We cannot remove the arrows from your father's chest so you will need to place the torch against the arrows and let the metal burn him from within. Make sure to hold him down as this will hurt more deeply than any blade could. When the wound is cauterized you can take the arrows out without the risk of bleeding. Pack his wounds with Athelas and pray that the poison hasn't spread by now.'

* * *

Hours passed since the healers isolated themselves and Legolas inside the King's chamber. Sonja was able to hear his terrible screams piercing through the thick doors and prayed to Eru that he would make it, so that his long torment would not be in vain. After a while there was only silence. She could not pick up any more noise with her human ears. The double doors opened and the healers left one by one, followed by Legolas.

He spotted Sonja lingering in the shadows of the corridor, bracing herself for the worst of news.

-'You saved his life', he told her and witnessed her eyes starting to shine again, a silent sigh escaping her lips. 'You should be there', he added while bowing his head to her.

-'I'm sorry that I slapped you', she told him, finding her voice.

-'Don't apologize. It was the right thing to do. He yet lives. Thank you!' he said before embracing her tightly.

His golden hair fell upon her soft cheek and reminded her of the King's silken strands.

-'Go to him!' Legolas whispered as he held her close and then released her from his arms.

-'What about you?' Sonja asked as the Prince was moving further away from her.

-'We need to deal with the remaining orcs. I will not let my father's sacrifice be in vain.'

* * *

The room seemed even grander now that the crowd had dispersed. She paced slowly as if not wanting to wake him from his rest. She found a chair next to the door and sat in it for a while, watching him from afar, unsure of what she should do or say and uncertain of what his reaction might be towards her being there.

After a sleepless night she felt incredibly tired, her eyes struggling to remain open. When she woke the sun was already high in the sky, shining brightly inside the room. In a few big steps she found herself near the window and pulled down the heavy velvet curtains to block the light from making its way onto the bed.

Shortly after, the large doors opened and Arvellon entered the room, carrying with him more Athelas to dress the King's wounds. He did not seem to mind that she was present. At first Sonja thought that he did not see her standing in the dark. It was only when he called her by name that she stepped forward and approached him.

-'I need you to help me change the bandages', the elf asked. 'The other healers are taken with tending to the soldiers coming from the north.'

-'What of Legolas? Is he alright?' she asked, knowing he was still out there, fighting the legions of orcs that had trespassed into their lands.

-'We did not find him among the wounded or the dead, so we must yet hope he is safe from harm. Should his father not recover from this, Greenwood will need a new King.'

No more words were exchanged between the two as they started their work. Sonja's eyes fell upon Thranduil's chest, vulnerable and bare before her. Two deep markings were etched between his ribs, and countless bruises dotted his pale skin after battling the orc filth. The body of this great warrior reminded her of Brann and how he fought until his dying breath to defend the village. She could not help him then, she had tried to reach him, but her own wounds were too much to bear. She then thought of Legolas, should the worse happen, will he be able to overcome his guilt?

Long minutes went by until they finished tending to the King's wounds. He remained unresponsive, lying in his bed like he was immersed in a blissful sleep. The healer took his leave and promised Sonja he will have some food delivered to her, should she wish to linger at the King's side.

Two more days and nights she stood there, often wandering why she chose to do so. Saving the King's life will not bring Brann back. But if she could save just one soul, just this once, she might be able to start to forgive herself. He did not move or sigh once since she had been there, no sign if he was in pain or if he would recover. All she could do was wait.

Legolas had return a victor from battle but his thoughts were bitter-sweet. He came to visit his father as often as his duties allowed him, now that he had to keep an eye on all the affairs concerning Greenwood. Is that why the voice had asked him to return to his home? He found this plan of the Valar to be cruel and he started to question his faith in the gods.

Sonja drew the chair closer to the bed. She found herself staring at his face, admiring its straight lines and whishing he would open his eyes to allow her to immerse in their freezing depths. A sad tune came to mind and she gave voice to it, singing the soft melody while glancing across the bed and through the window at the sun setting on the third eve since she was watching over him.

Her hands were resting on the side of the bed and as she sang, her fingers touched the King's cold wrist. Sonja broke her gaze from the sky, trying to remember the next verse to sing, but she couldn't. Her fingers followed the outline of his big hand, surprised by its smoothness, until she finally rested them atop his open palm. The lyrics came back to her mind so she started singing again, looking out the large window.

Night was falling fast and she felt the exhaustion spreading over her. As she whispered the last verse that she could remember, she allowed herself to close her eyes and dropped her head upon the elf's abdomen and felt it hard as a rock. She was so tired, she could sleep anywhere.

-'Why have you stopped? The song was beautiful', she heard him asking.

And when he moved his hand under hers, she realized she was not dreaming. Fearful at first, she lifted herself off of him, not sure how to apologize. But then unexpected joy overtook her at the sight of his clear, blue eyes.

-'You're awake!'

She felt like she could give him a hug, but it hardly seemed appropriate. He looked straight into her eyes, as was his habit, piercing them with his own. She bowed her gaze feeling uneasy with his intense stare.

-'I should get the healers', she mumbled, rising from the chair and heading towards the door.

-'Where is Legolas?' Thranduil asked her, his voice betraying the deep pain he was in.

He did not have the strength to try and mask it from her.

-'Do not worry yourself. He is unharmed. I am sure he will be most glad to speak with you again', she replied before walking out of the room.


	5. Time to heal

Thranduil awoke to the tune of a cheerful melody sang in the common tongue. He was alone in the solitude of his room. The song seemed to come from the inner courtyard, far below his balcony.

-'A troop of human minstrels, Ada', Legolas spoke from the door frame, watching his father glancing out the window at them. 'They arrived two days past and have since lifted the spirits within these halls. I should have mentioned them to you before. Forgive me!'

-'Tell me, Legolas, what yet troubles your mind? You know I can sense it within you.'

-'Ada, please... I almost lost you. I know I was reckless. I...'

-'Do not allow yourself to be buried in guilt, ion nin', the King interrupted him. 'The past week, you have shown me what a great leader you can be and I can feel nothing but pride at the elf you have become, pride to call you my son. You would have made a fair King one day.'

Legolas bowed his eyes, welcoming his father's soothing words.

Thranduil turned to look at himself in the mirror. The healers had removed the bandages and the scars were barely visible now on his bare chest. Elven bodies possessed an accelerated healing power that allowed them to escape most sickness or wounds. The majority of their physical injuries could heal without a trace and be forgotten in the flow of time.

-'I am sorry we had to use fire on you, Ada! I know how much you dread it. Ever since the dragon scared your face... but there was no other way.'

-'Let us speak no more of this. The magic that helps me mask my wounds allowed me the illusion I could forget what happened in the times of old. I would like to leave it be, for now.'

The King returned by the window, his eyes searching in the sea of faces below until he found her, Sonja. He had not seen her since he woke from his slumber, four days ago. She seemed in high spirits among the other humans and there was a new glow about her, something he hadn't noticed before.

The dawn was white and cold and loud, and it was all too clear that both humans and elves alike had been feasting and dancing around the big bonfire in the yard for the duration of the entire night.

-'I should join my people', the King expressed his wish and Legolas helped him get dressed.

* * *

The wine coming from the King's cellar was the best in all of Middle Earth. The humans were the first to fall under its sweet spell as they danced around chaotically, all to Sonja's amusement as she watched them stumbling, but not giving up in their endeavours.

-'You have been avoiding me', she heard his grave voice echo inside her deepest thoughts.

Her muscles tensed and her eyes lost their focus on the dancers in front. She could feel him, towering like a grand shadow over her, and his cold breath, so close to her hair, was sending shivers down her spine. She wandered for how long he has been standing there behind her, watching her in silence, reading her thoughts.

-'Get out of my head!' she pleaded in her own mind, knowing that the King will hear her.

She then felt him, even closer to her body, his silken robe brushing against the skin of her hand and then his long fingers grabbing her left wrist in a tight grip. She froze under his touch, unsure how to react.

-'I'm sorry, Ada, Sonja owes us a dance', Legolas spoke out of nowhere, reaching for her other hand and pulling her away, closer to the fire.

Thranduil watched them dancing with the others, in a reel around the flames. Hand in hand, elves and humans, their hearts were young and full of life. His gaze followed her for a long while and decided she was actually moving gracefully, for a human.

Their eyes met a few times, staring at each other across the burning fire and when the song stopped, Sonja found the King standing at her side once more.

-'Dance with me', he asked, struggling to voice it more like an invitation and less like a demand.

To his surprise, she placed her small hand in his and together they joined the other pairs swirling to the gentle new melody, like a flowing stream. She did her best to follow his lead, but she was still tense. He put his arm around her waist pulling her close and he felt her fading under his touch.

-'Breathe!' he reminded her, smiling while he whispered the words.

They continued to dance and she discovered that she couldn't look away from his eyes. She felt like drowning in their blue. The image of her Brann came forth inside her mind and made her sigh under a terrible guilt.

-'I have to go', she said, pulling away from his arms.

* * *

She strolled aimlessly in the solitude of the garden, looking to escape the chaos in her mind. Her hands brushed away the snow from the lower end of her dress. It was cold, just like his touch. The icicles and the frosted trees were sparkling in the sunlight. Sonja stopped in place and took a deep breath, wanting to let it all sink in. She stared in awe at the white beauty before her and felt the wind blowing away the dark locks from her face.

She decided to retire back to her chambers after the sleepless night she had and turned around to walk up to the palace. She froze again. The King was standing tall at the end of the alley, his hair flowing freely in the wild wind.

-'It is not safe to be out here alone', he scolded her. 'It is dangerous outside the walls, even in my palace gardens.'

-'Did you follow me here?' she asked in outrage. 'I am not a little child you need to watch over!'

-'Yes, indeed, a child you are not', he replied, acknowledging his words while his eyes travelled all over her being.

The calm in his voice only made her feel more enraged. He was being condescending. She bit her lip trying to ease her nerves. She would not risk his anger by continuing this conversation.

-'Are you just going to stand there until your mortal body will freeze to death? Is that how hard you wish to avoid me?' he challenged her.

A moment later he dove out of the way of an incoming snow ball aimed at his face.

-'It is unwise to attack your King', he added. 'Besides, you throw like a little girl.'

Exhausting all means of outing her frustration with him, she started walking up in his direction. This time, she stared intensely upon his face, just like he used to, and noticed how it was making him rather uncomfortable. It was not often that any of his subjects would dare to look so freely into his eyes.

Pleased with herself, she stopped walking, a near pace before him, that is how close she was now. When he broke her gaze and looked away, she started moving in circles around him, nodding her head to the sides, like she was examining him in the most peculiar manner.

-'What are you looking for?' the King finally asked her, curiosity getting the better of him.

Sonja did not reply and continued her examination.

-'You are a child, after all', he said, swiftly grabbing both her wrists to stop her in place.

His fingers felt the small scar on the back of her hand and he let go of her just as swift.

-'Go back inside!' he added, hoping she will turn away and disturb his soul no more.

For the first time this day, she wanted to obey him, but could not bring her feet to move from where she stood. His eyes had caught hers once more and she felt totally paralysed. The snow was falling cold on her cheeks and lips, melting as it touched her warm skin. Suddenly, all she could think of was the taste of his flawless lips and their freezing touch. She wandered if they were indeed as cold as she imagined them.

Silence stretched between them. Thranduil watched her as she studied every line of his face. Sonja pushed herself on the tip of her toes and boldly pressed her lips onto the King's without another moment's thought. She immediately started to fear she would be sent to the dungeons for this, or worse, but when he kissed her back she could barely contain her surprise. He was warm, more than she could have ever anticipated. His arms rose to embrace her, but before he could allow himself to become absorbed in the moment, he parted his face from hers, letting his mind take over control once more.

-'I know you are the one that saved me. Legolas told me everything', he spoke softly into her ear.

His voice was like the sweetest music, in total contrast with their conversation from before. Sonja shook her head lightly, trying to escape the spell that came over her.

-'Release me', she whispered, almost pleading, her breath caressing the skin of his pale cheek.

He let go of her gently and when he opened his eyes again she was gone.


	6. Into the night

Night fell over Greenwood once more. The sky was clear and the light from the stars protruded through the palace windows.

Sonja was absent from dinner in the grand hall again. If it hadn't been for the servants that assured him she was indeed eating in the comforts of her own room, Thranduil would have guessed she could survive for days solely on the air she drew breaths from.

Recent events made him question and doubt himself in ways that troubled him beyond belief. The near thought of her was enough to leave him breathless and this bothered him deeply. He wanted to be in control, not be ruled by his needs. He hated being vulnerable. As to why would he feel so exposed in front of a mortal, that was a thing he yet could not explain to himself.

The thought of sending her away did cross his mind more than once since the moment she so fearlessly kissed him, lowering his defenses. But then how would he protect her if she was no longer in his halls, inside his palace? He had promised her no harm shall come to her ever again. On top of that, he owed Sonja his very life and probably the life of his son, sparing him the grief of facing the eternity after causing the death of his Adar.

No. Send her away he could not. Perhaps it was for the best that she did not join him for dinner after all. As long as he kept his distance, things would go back to the way they were. With the decision made, he tried to push her out of his mind for a while. There was a lot of work waiting for him on his desk. Legolas had managed to make his way through all urgent matters during his father's recovery, but there were still many issues left to attend to.

* * *

As she was approaching the end of the corridor, Sonja was starting to have second thoughts. Upon further reflecting at what had transpired during the previous day, she understood all too well that there was ever only one possible outcome.

Torn between her reason and her heart she slowed her footsteps. But it was only to delay the inevitable.

* * *

Thranduil finished his work sooner than he had expected. It seemed that he had underestimated the efforts and dedication that Legolas has put into organizing the reports. He was indeed proud of him and overjoyed that he had decided to linger in Middle Earth, at his side. Ever since his beloved wife died, carrying alone the responsibilities of the crown has proven difficult at times, even for the greatest Elvenking.

He stepped out of his study heading towards the balcony where he got reunited with his son a few weeks before. The hour was late and the hallways were empty.

* * *

Sonja stopped when her eyes met his in the corridor. She had hoped to find him asleep and leave her letter by his door.

-'My King', she addressed him in an unnatural way for her.

-'My lady', he answered in the same manner, trying to maintain his apparent calm. 'What brings you to this part of the palace at such an extreme hour in the night?'

-'I was coming to see you; in truth I was hoping you would be asleep', she admitted.

Sonja noticed his thick eyebrows rising in surprise.

-'I wrote this for you', she quickly explained while showing him the letter. 'Perhaps you will read it in the morning.'

He started walking her way and his footsteps made no sound. His long robe was flowing down his broad shoulders, sweeping the ground.

-'Don't!' she begged him, lifting her open palm in front of her as a signal to stop him in place and he complied. 'I came to say goodbye', she added with a slight tremor in her voice.

Any trace of warmth instantly left his face. His eyes focused hers. She was serious and she meant every word.

-'No one can leave the Greenwood without my permission!' he replied almost harshly, not expecting to hear that from her.

-'But... I cannot remain here a moment longer', she answered in protest, keeping her eyes downcast.

A few more steps and he was by her side, towering over her small body. He gently placed his long fingers under her chin, slowly lifting her face until their eyes met. He felt her shudder as he did so and she turned quickly from him, hiding her tears. Every second she spent in his eyes felt dangerous to her. He was so beautiful under the starlight.

-'Look at me!' he asked in a whisper. 'You seem to forget I can read your thoughts. Don't run away', he pleaded, which was a rather unusual thing coming from him. 'I will not allow it', he added in his demanding, king-like tone.

-'I am mortal', she replied, without being able to face him just yet. 'Brann... He is waiting for me at the gates of dawn, he must be', she added mostly to herself, her voice fading back to mere whispers.

Of course she knew in her heart that mortal souls were lost in death forever; there was no other place for them to linger. An immense feeling of guilt and shame overcame her and she felt her body going limp and silent, eventually falling against his chest.

He stroke her hair, trying to soothe her as they stood alone in the middle of the dark hallway.

-'What of your wife? Do you not miss her? Do you not hope to be reunited with her on the shores of Valinor?' she asked unexpectedly.

The question came like a dagger, deep inside his aching heart, awaking painful memories long suppressed from thought.

-'She is not there', he replied, hoping to have to talk of her no more.

-'I don't understand. Was she not elven?'

-'She was.'

Feeling the shift in his voice, Sonja decided to not press the subject any further.

-'It is not often that I speak of her. Not even to Legolas. The pain is still deep in both of our hearts.'

-'Forgive me', she found herself saying as she noted the single tear falling from his lashes, slowly down his cheek.

-'She was tainted by the shadow', the King added. 'After she was captured by the orcs of Gundabad, I had my army defy the legions and return her to Greenwood. But she was already lost to me. Her body was there but her mind was absent, belonging to the darkness. What she had become, I cannot say with certainty, but an elf she was no more. I watched her for months as she drifted away and struggled with her every breath, until I could not bear to see her in that pain anymore. I ended her life myself', he confessed and a deep sigh escaped his lips.

Sonja was at a loss for words, confronted with the grief and guilt he must have carried around for millennia. Her small hand rose against his face and she caressed his cheek, whipping away the salty tear. He grasped the back of her hand, drowning inside the black sea of her eyes and he closed his own giving in to the softness of her touch. She soothed him and he kissed her with ardour, showing her, more than words ever could, just how much he needed her in that moment. He then lifted her of her feet, cradling her in his strong arms as he carried her along the corridor towards his chamber.


	7. Mourning

For the first time in ages Thranduil slept a dreamless sleep, with no nightmares to haunt his mind and torment his soul. He woke up at sunrise, alone. The light was casting a soft, golden glow across the room. His blue eyes widened as he kept staring at the ceiling while his mind made him wonder if she had in fact left the palace as she planned to. He forbade it. Just the thought of her crossing him like that angered him beyond compare.

He walked to the table in the corner of the room and poured himself a glass of wine. Allowing his spirit to calm, he could then sense that she was near, still inside the walls, protected.

The sound of a door opening interrupted him. Unnanounced, the servant entered the room to bring him the news. The last of the patrols had just arrived back from the north border carrying the bodies of the elves that were lost on the battlefield. Today would be a day of mourning for all Greenwood.

* * *

Sonja was sitting cross-legged in the chair near the window in her room, silent and very still, her face focused on the garden below where the elves were making preparations for the night's solemn ceremony. There was no more music or laughter, the air itself seemed burdened with sorrow. She felt tired, but for some reason she could not allow herself to sleep.

The day passed swiftly, the lanterns were lit and the elves gathered under the trees. Their songs of lament resounded beautifully in the night as they rose higher and higher to meet the stars above.

Thranduil arrived late. He was covered in gore that seeped through his tunic, but he didn't seem to mind it. The crown was placed on his head, but the rings were missing from his fingers. He appeared cold, calculated, ruthless, every bit the King that most feared and obeyed. The sight of him like that scared her. As he walked among the elves, they each bowed to him and in turn Thranduil whispered words of comfort to them.

He had spent his entire afternoon interogating the orc prisoners. From the looks of it and from knowing his temper, none remained that still drew breath inside the dungeons. The attack at the border was bold and the elf now feared the threat from the north to be higher than he first expected.

Sonja could not bring herself to leave her room and join them. She still felt like an outsider and was more comfortable in her chair near the window from where she was watching them, she was watching him.

She could tell that he was distraught. The King was struggling to hide it, his face voided of expressions, but somehow she was able to read his torment at the sight of his fallen kin. There were grief and sadness pulling him down in the most painful way. His voice joined the others in their prayers addressed to Manwe and Mandos, praising the Valar and asking them to welcome their beloved sons into the halls of their undying lands.

Long hours passed.

During the entire evening, his eyes never looked up at her, nor his thoughts ever disturb hers. Sonja wondered if the events of night's past made him act so distant towards her ever since, but it was not her intention to dwell on such thoughts for too long. He was an immortal King and she was a nobody, it had been wrong from the start and she knew it very well. They were both hurting inside still, looking to escape the wounds of the past. She needed to keep away from him for a while.

Then just as he was leaving the garden, he caught her eye, his blue ones piquing with sudden interest. In a flash, the intrigue disappeared and he went on his way. Sonja turned from the window, seeking refuge in the darkness of her room.

* * *

The King retired to his chambers, but was unable to find sleep. The stars were shinning bright, making him think of her unexpectedly. He had tried to ignore her all day, wanting to proove to himself that she had no grasp over him. But then why had he ask her to stay? And why has it been so easy for him to tell her about his wife? He so very rarely spoke of her, unable to escape the crushing guilt that her memory brought over him.

Thranduil went for some fresh air on his private balcony and then stepped back inside the room. Everything around him kept reminding him that they had made love there. Desire seized his heart as his thoughts focused on her. He felt his whole body starting to ache, craving for her touch, her smell, her deep eyes. He wanted her, badly.

His hunger made him leave the comfort of the royal chambers, pacing down the hallway, until his feet brought him at her door. She was not inside the room. It made him angry not to have her now. He stormed out, determined to find her.

He began to consider locking Sonja up in that room, his weakness, the mortal that could soothe his pain and trouble his heart. But he knew that she would never trully be his and neither forgive him for that. His rage slowly subsided, giving way to concern. Where could she be at this late hour?

Trying to connect with her mind, as to get a glimpse of her whereabouts, he could sense that she was overwhelmed by many conflicting feelings. The moon was reflecting its silver light in her hair where she stood, on the large terrace overlooking the forest, gazing aimlessly into the night. She was close.

He strode fast along the corridor, passing by several balconies, until he finally caught sight of her. Her white dress was flowing all the way to the floor and seemed almost transluscent under the stars, revealing her feminine features.

Sonja turned to face the corridor and found him waiting in the dark, watching her.

-'Come to me!' he asked, his tone demanding and lustful.

-'Thranduil!' she sighed soflty, unable to move at the sight of him.

Only then did he realize that he had been roaming the halls of his palace half naked. But in that moment, he couldn't care less. He smirked. She has been missing him, he could feel it. His appetite for her was growing stronger by the second, until he could not contain it anymore.

The elf approached her, with steps silent on the stone floor. His face came into the light, ghostly pale, his eyes, two oceans under moonlight. Sonja retreated a few paces, avoiding his gaze.

Pulling close to her, Thranduil could feel the heat radiating from her skin through the thin fabric. He traced her chin with the tip of his fingers before roughly tilting it up to meet her eyes again. Sonja defended herself as her palm flew to meet his face. The King caught her wrist before it could land against his cheek. She could not escape his strong grip.

Touching her again made him feel like he lost all control. She felt his lips so close to hers, burning and teasing for long and agonizing moments, until he finally leaned all the way to close the distance between them in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands fell to her shoulders and then further down her body, fueling her own desires, while his thoughts invaded hers once more: 'You are mine, all mine!'


	8. Away

'You are mine, all mine!' replayed inside her head as the morning light danced upon her still closed eyelids. What did that mean exactly? Was she his? Did she even want to be?

For the second time now Sonja woke up in the King's bed, between the silken sheets, surounded by her mixed up feelings. She felt mostly guilt for needing him, longing for his touch. But with him, she could feel her heart, beating again.

Thranduil was sleeping, his arm resting heavy on her waist. Sonja could not have escaped like last time, during the night, even is she wanted to. She realized just how foolish she had been, attempting to slap him and risk his anger. But he didn't react in the slightest the way she tought he would. Despite her better judgement, her plan to stay away from him was failing miserably, yet right there, in his protective embrace, it just didn't seem to matter anymore.

The King smiled inward. He was lying still, listening to the rythm of her breaths, pretending to be asleep. He felt like a young elf again. Even if his looks did not betray his age, the passing centuries had left their mark on him in the most painfull of ways. He couldn't remember the last time that he overslept like this and he knew that he was already late for his daily duties.

Sonja drifted back to sleep next to him. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the round curve of her ear, taking in the scent of her skin, before finally deciding it was time to start his day. Even so, he had to really will himself out of bed.

The elf bathed and dressed in his fine silver robe, placing the crown atop his head. He brushed away the hair from the sides of his face and secured it in a simple braid.

When the servant came in to bring him breakfast, Thranduil waved him away with a gesture of his hand.

-'I shall have the food delivered in my study. Lady Sonja is not to be disturbed from her dreams. '

-'Yes, my lord. '

The servant was surprised to find the mortal in the King's bed, but struggled to keep his oppinions to himself. He bowed and left and Thranduil followed him shortly out of the room, leaving the human to recover from her exhaustion.

He stopped briefly in the door frame to steal another glance at her and drink in her sweetness. He knew he was not going to see her again for at least a while.

* * *

It was already past noon when she woke next. The room was silent and it felt empty without him there. The scent of his spice still lingered on the pillows. Sonja stared at the wooden ceiling for a while, day-dreaming about his beautiful eyes and the clean lines of his perfectly sculpted body, his kisses on her skin and the passions they were arising inside her.

The pain in her stomach reminded her she was famished. She looked about the room to recover her clothes and then snuk out into the corridor.

A tall elven woman greeted her just outside the door. She wore a green dress and her dark hair was braided all along her back and reached close to her waist.

-'You must be hungry, my lady. I have set the table for you back in your chamber. I hope you will find everything to your likeing. '

-'Thank you! Please call me Sonja. '

-'My name is Merfinnil. It is a delight to meet you my... Sonja', she said without being able to contain her smile. 'King Thranduil asked me to make sure you will have everything you need during his abscence. '

-'He is away? '

-'He left this morning for Dale. There are pressing matters that require his presence there. Please let me know if there is anything that I can assist you with. '

-'You are too kind, Merfinnil, but I must respectfully decline. I would feel too unconfortable having a servant attending to my needs. Where I come from, we are all equal and share in the responsibilities of our daily lives. '

-'A friend then? ' the elf asked.

-'Yes. I would gladly welcome a friend. This palace can be at times a very lonely place. '

* * *

Late in the evening, her footsteps carried her to the underground part of Thranduil's halls. It seemed like an entirely different world, waiting to be discovered below. There were many suspended walkways and bridges across the underground river and the sound made by the waterfall was echoing loudly fom the cliffs.

The symbol of a large tree was carved into a pair of massive double doors that instantly caught her eye. Sonja traced part of the carving with her fingers, feeling the wooden fibres and contemplating the art behind it all. She pushed one door aside and stumbled upon the throne room.

She had never been there before and was awestruck by the soft light filtered through the many skylights. The hall itself was suported by pillars carved into the living rock and the ceilling seemed higher than in any other part of the palace. Lanterns made of shimmering silver and pure white gems hung from above, reminding her of Thranduil's fascination with the stars.

Set in the center of the room, the Elvenking's throne stood tall, with stairs carved into the stone leading up to it. Grand elk antlers and branches representing the very essence of Greenwood were adorning it and she could feel the fresh scent of deep forest air all around her. From this seat of power, Thranduil greated his most important guests, ordered his armies to march to war and even planned his great banquets.

Now the chair was empty, but it still made her shudder just by looking at it.

Moving past the pillars she was met with a pair of familiar light blue eyes. For a few seconds she could have sworn that it was him waiting to meet her there.

-'Somehow I doubt I am the one you were hoping to find', Legolas spoke when he realised she was staring at him.

-'You have you father's eyes', Sonja replied, a little embarrassed. 'Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude. '

-'You didn't. I sometimes come here for clearer thought. It's quiet and grand and cold. It inspires eternity. I can see why my father chose this room for his throne. '  
-'I thought you left with him. He had barely just recovered from his wounds... '  
-'You worry for him? '

-'You do not? ' Sonja asked, evading to answer the elf.

-'My father is wild and free just like his forest. Ever too often he can be arrogant and stubborn. He will heed no council or change his mind for others. There was no stopping this journey the moment he decided on it. '

Legolas studied her as she came to realize the truth behind his words. yet there was something still bothering her and she was taking great care to mask it. The elf did not press. Unlike his father, Legolas valued the privacy of others and he very rarely intruded on their secret thoughts. All he knew was that she needed something to take her mind off her troubles.

-'May I offer you a tour of the palace? ' he asked, extending his arm. 'There are many beautiful rooms within these walls. Perhaps you would enjoy to see our greenhouse, or maybe the library. '

-'I would like that very much. Thank you', she said with a smile and placed her arm on top of his, welcoming the distraction.

* * *

She could hear it louder now. The song was beautiful, almost otherworldly. Tall canopies that loomed overhead in an archway were swaying in the breeze of summer as she continued to pace barefoot along the path, following the white deer into the night. The darkness did not frighten her. The tune was gentle, soothing and she felt tranquil, she felt at peace.

Sonja couldn't remember how she got there exactly. Amidst the moon and the stars, amidst the trees which bordered on the sky, she found herself completly lost.


	9. The gift of Men

Sonja woke slightly before dawn. It was a cloudy morning and the entire palace seemed to be asleep, resting peacefully behind its huge stone doors secured by magic.

She began her walk towards the library like she often did during the past few days. She could find comfort there, in the ancient knowledge stored within its walls. The corridor was quiet and as the light of the morning star made its way between the columns, Sonja watched their shadows growing tall.

She felt empty, tired and alone. No matter what she did she could not escape the hurt tearing at her, engulfing her and darkening her, much like the shadows in the corridor. Tears would often come welling behind her eyes and she would fight to stop them from falling down her cheeks. Sometimes she would win her battles, but most days she would surrender to the painful memories of her child and husband, to the smell of blood and the hands of orcs and their piercing steel against her flesh.

Just as she heard the voice of her friend calling for her and pulling her back from the haze of thoughts, Sonja felt her feet giving way from under her. She leaned against the nearest column in an attempt to regain her senses.

Merfinnil caught up just in time.

-'Your hands are cold, mellon nin', she said as she was trying to help Sonja back to her feet. 'Are you unwell? ' she asked and she placed a palm on her forehead to check for signs of fever.

-'It is nothing', Sonja replied, regaining control of herself. 'I feel much better now. I will not have you worry over this. '

-'When is the last time you have eaten? ' Merfinnil pressed, but she got no answer . 'Come and sit down for a while', she invited her to rest on a wooden chaise covered with grey animal furs.

-'I am fine', Sonja insisted.

-'Please. It won't do you much good to stand here alone if you were to faint again. '

Sonja gave in to reason and clung to the extended arm that was so graciously offered to her, to help her find her balance as she walked across the hall.

-'I cannot actually recall the last time you joined me for dinner, or lunch or any meal for that matter. You need to eat. You need your strength back', Merfinnil continued her scoldings. 'I could have Legolas command it, if you will not heed the advice of a concerned friend. The King asked me to take care of you and I fear that I have failed him. I have failed you. '

Her voice was grave, almost desperate, then apologetic and it eventually softened as she bowed her gaze all the way to the ground. She closed her eyes and spoke no more.

-'No, dear friend, you did not fail me. And please know that it was not my intention to cause trouble for you, especially with the King', Sonja said in a low voice, placing her hand on the elf's shoulder, hoping to make her feel better.

In truth, she couldn't remember the last meal she had either. She really didn't feel like herself as of late.

There was no response, only an uneasy silence.

-'I need to ask you something, Merfinnil', Sonja resumed her words and the elf finally lifted her chin to meet her gaze again. 'Have you ever seen or heard of a white deer, a white hart in fact? '

-'The guardians of the forest... You met a Nimfjara? ' the elf inquired with great surprise in her eyes.

-'I have dreamt of one, for many nights now. I was wondering if they are real. '

Merfinnil fell silent yet again as she struggled to gather her thoughts.

-'I can only tell you of what I know from the legends of my people, for I have never seen one for myself, mellon nin. '

-'You called them the guardians of the forest', Sonja interrupted, curiosity getting the better of her.

-'They are creatures of pure light, messengers sent from the other realm, that long dwelled inside our Greenwood. Their appearance is said to herald some profound change in the lives of those who encounter them, though many believe they are here to watch over our borders and the magic of this land.'

-'I don't understand. Why would one come to me?'

-'That is something that you alone have to discover. But I will tell you this: it is not often that one is haunted by such a dream. Much less one that is not of the Eldar.'

-'Perhaps it is just a dream then', Sonja decided, trying to abate herself from dwelling on the matter any longer. 'Please, join me in the library and we can have our breakfast there. I think I shall enjoy trying something new today. Maybe we can indulge in some Dorwinion. You don't think the King would mind if we borrow a bottle, would he? '

The elf raised her eyebrows and a slight chuckle escaped her lips as she started to consider her friend's suggestion. The light reflected warm on her fair skin as it flooded the hallway, slowly melting away the shadows.

* * *

-'Today went well, my King. '

-'Yes, indeed', Thranduil answered absently, without looking at his advisor.

He was immersed in deep thought and could not be bothered to turn his gaze. There was still much that he needed to take care of before he could return to his halls in Greenwood.

-'Is there no end to this suffering? ' he asked without expecting an actual answer.

-'My lord? '

-'I have lived my share of years in this realm, Hannor. Should I live a thousand more before sailing to Aman, I am uncertain that I will get to witness true peace again. Morgoth and his servants may be gone, but the shadow is everlasting. '

-'The humans are weak and can be easily corrupted. They will need our guidance in the times to come. This shall be our legacy in Middle Earth then. '

The King shifted in his seat and looked towards the window on the far wall. His eyes followed the tiny specs of dust inside the room, floating in the pale moonlit air, and his mind wandered of, thinking about the humans and the gift of death that Iluvatar had bestowed upon them.

-'As elves, we are forever bound to the fate of this world and the souls of our fallen kin. But I sometimes wonder if it is truly any different for the children of Men. Could it really be that their spirits can leave Arda and travel to other realms, unknown even to the Valar themselves? '

-'I suppose it must be so', Hannor replied. 'Otherwise, what is the meaning of a life that ends inevitably in death and oblivion? '

Thranduil poured himself a cup of wine. He poured another and offered it to Hannor. He enjoyed his company and the wisdom in his words. He was older than Thranduil, first advisor to his father, Oropher, before him.

-'It's her, isn't it? The mortal girl. She is the reason you dwell on such matters, my lord. '

-'I merely seek to understand her lingering connection to the ones that are no more. '

-'Change never comes easy, least of all to those who cling to the past. You know that. Give her time. '

-'Time is nothing to me, but it's most precious to humans. '

Thranduil rose from his chair and stepped closer to the window. So many stars, too many to count. But somehow he knew them all by name. They were his constant companions, frozen on a background of deepest darkness, immortal, just like him, in the vicious hands of time.


	10. A King's heart

The King kept looking in the mirror, his eyes hooked on his flawless reflection. His hand rose to feel the softness of his cheek and take comfort in the strength of the illusion. The mask staring back at him sought to convince him that the past can be forgotten.

Only a few times in the last millennia had he looked upon his true face and each time it brought him even greater pain than the last. The ruined flesh stood as a constant reminder of his failure to save his father and the rest of his people at Dagorlad. He had blamed the inability to heal his disfigurement on the magic of the shadow, but lately he found himself wondering if it wasn't his own scarred heart that which prevented him from evading the horror of his face.

His mind drifted to dark places as he sat there, staring at himself. Very few were those who knew of his pain and even fewer those who dared speak about the past.

He hated that face. Flesh voided of feeling, marked by shadow and flame, scarred forever.

The mirror shattered to fine pieces as his fist made its way through the glass, allowing his anger freedom.

* * *

He was parted from her for two weeks now. The King could sense the nightmares returning to haunt his lonely nights. It bothered him how he was unable to chase them away and he felt selfish in his desire for her, each time the darkness drew him under.

How ironic, he thought to himself, that he could never really see the value of a mortal life in the ages past and now he was staying behind in Middle Earth for them, to offer council and support, all this against his dread of being constantly surrounded by death and ephemeral things. And how fitting that the only one able to take his pains away would be mortal.

He pondered for hours, trying to understand how this human could so easily bring peace to his wasted heart and though it was a simple question, the elf found it difficult to answer. She was plagued by nightmares, they both were, and yet in their time together all the hurt was melting away.

Day after day, Thranduil thought of her, dreaming of the stars in her eyes and longing for her warmth next to him. The affairs of Dale have kept him away longer that he had planned. The King felt restless on the way back.

He rushed up the stairs towards the library without stopping to greet the many elves that approached him in the hallways. Sonja turned and dropped the book, hard on the floor, at the sight of him.

-'You're back! '

She had been crying, her tired eyes betrayed her. But still, the elf could see them shining and thought them deeper and more beautiful than ever before. At first, Thranduil almost didn't recognize her with her hair flowing around her in dark, elegant braids, contrasting with the white dress trimmed with silver lace and the ghostly pale skin of her bare shoulders. Merfinnil had surely kept busy all this time, he told himself.

He quietly shut the door behind him and moved across the room towards her. She turned from him and tried to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand in one last attempt to shield her grief, but Thranduil grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her back.

-'Sonja... ' he whispered her name and felt her burying her face into him. 'Shshh... It's alright. You are alright', he reassured her and his arms tighten around her thin body.

-'Take it away', she asked him, hot tears welling in her eyes and damping the fine fabric of his tunic. 'Your magic is powerful. I don't want to feel this sorrow anymore. I can't.'

Her voice was weak and broken, her words mere whispers of her troubled spirit.

-'I am afraid there is no magic strong enough to lift the burdens of the heart. Valar know I've tried. '

Thranduil sighed and laid a soothing kiss on the top of her head, before resting his chin in the very same spot. Eventually he spoke again.

-'There are many nights when sleep eludes me still, haunting me with reminders of the ones I too have lost, bodies lying broken and bloodied together, prying open old wounds not yet healed. But I find comfort in knowing that we all have our place in the music of Eru, even in death. '

Sonja slowly turned her face until her ear came to rest upon his stony chest. The King's heart was beating strong and steady. She inhaled deeply, allowing herself some time for the ache in her own to settle. The scent of his skin invaded her nostrils and it almost made her forget herself.

Thranduil drew his fingers through her long, dark strands and pulled her gently so he could look upon her face. His beautiful blue eyes met hers before moving down to linger on her lips. She felt his thumb brushing across her jaw spreading a cold shiver down her spine. Sonja's heart sank a little and she closed her eyes in anticipation. With every touch of his lips, her sadness drifted away until all she could feel was him.

She stood watch as her love tumbled away to his death. She wanted to die with him. With them. She thought the wounds in her abdomen would bleed her dry. Sudden silence fell around her for what it felt like an eternity. But then she opened her eyes again. And she lived. She lived. And now she unexpectedly found herself consumed with need, with want for another. She reached up to pull him even closer and melted against him as he claimed her mouth in hunger, evoking sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling.

When their lips eventually parted, she could still feel her heart racing, her breathing uneven as if she had been running for the past hour. Deep down she was running, from her grief, from her fear and from everything that hurt. She was well aware of that, yet all she wanted to do was run even faster.

\- 'Give me your hand', he asked her, raising his own in waiting.

Sonja hesitated for a moment, still lost in her own thoughts.

-'Trust me ' - Two small words that suddenly felt like the world to her and she placed her hand in his, warm fingers brushing against his wrist, before the expression on her face turned grave.

-'You're injured! ' she remarked, pulling away from him and looking at his bandaged palm.

-'Only my pride', the elf laughed, wanting to hide the truth of what really happened from her. 'Do not worry; it will be just a memory by dawn. Now, give me your hand, Sonja', he added and then reached for her without waiting for her to react.

Thranduil's touch felt like ice and her eyes widened when the scar on her hand vanished in favor of smooth, new born skin.

-'It is only an illusion', he explained and when he released her hand, the spell lifted revealing the small scar again. 'I could take the marks away forever, if you wanted me to. '

She kept looking in awe at the back of her palm, twisting her mind into accepting what had just occurred before her eyes. She traced the outline of the scar, her thin fingers brushing the strange skin and eventually her eyes closed in acceptance.

-'They are a part of me now, as is my pain, and hiding them would not be able to change that. I have wished them away so many times, but now I know they are there so I may never forget. '

-'I thought you wanted to forget', he told her, clearly surprised by her words. 'And yet you would have your body bare the reminders of your pain to look upon each day. '

In that moment, it was beyond him to imagine how someone could possibly want that. He could not even begin to conceive how it would be like to have to stare at his ruined face in the mirror for the rest of his unending life.

-'Pain is not the only thing they stand for. The scars remind us that the past is real, that the ones we loved were real…' Sonja replied.

Her face turned dark for a few moments and Thranduil thought that she might crumble again. But she simply stood in silence for a long time, her mind seeming to have drifted far away.

-'I have missed you', he admitted watching her snap out of her state.

-'Did you really? ' she pressed, gazing intently into his eyes and causing the elf to smirk back at her.

-'Are you attempting to read into my mind? This is a gift that no mortal possesses. Even among the remaining Eldar, me and my son alone can still reach the minds of our choosing. '

-'I do not need magic to tell truth from lies. '

-'Is that so? ' the Elvenking asked, intrigued by her statement. 'Then tell me what am I thinking of now. '

He tucked a few errant strands of Sonja's hair behind her ear and watched her smile and blush as she averted her gaze from him.

-'Surely not in the library! Thranduil Oropherion, have you no shame? '


	11. The first day of spring

It was the first day of spring.

The candle was burning low, wax melting and dripping from its rim and onto the desk, covered in maps and reports. Thranduil scarcely had time to touch them in the early morning before Legolas returned from his night patrol in the woods. He was keen on meeting with his father in his study and found him in high spirits.

-'You seem different as of late, father. I can almost see a smile light up your face. This is so unlike you. '

-'Legolas! '

-'Is it supposed to be a secret? ' he asked with a grin on his face. 'I am happy for you, truly. She saved your life and for that I will be eternally grateful to this human. '

The Elvenking did not reply, but it was apparent that he was pleasantly surprised by Legolas' words. He glanced at his son and invited him to sit next to him with a gesture of his hand.

-'Tell me, how did you plan to surprise her on this day? ' Legolas asked.

Thranduil felt out of practice. Swords and battles did not frighten him one bit, but when it came to small gestures of gratitude or affection he was on foreign ground.

The first day of spring has always been a day of celebration for elves. It was the day of the year when they liked to exchange gifts to honor the dawning of new life inside the forest. But it has been too long since he last tried to plan a surprise for anyone that mattered to him. He wanted everything to be perfect, yet his pride prevented him from ever asking for advice on this subject.

-'Maybe you can show her the Greenwood, Ada. The trees are in bloom and the grass is green and soft once more', Legolas suggested, trying to help him along.

-'That I could, ion nin. I shall arrange for dinner to be readied for us in my favorite place in the entire forest. '

The Prince took a sip from his wine, pleased he had been of help, then put down the cup back on the round table, and stood up to take his leave.

-'You wanted to talk about something, Legolas? ' his father stopped him.

'It can wait. Enjoy your day, my King! ' the younger elf replied with a smirk.

* * *

-'Why do men like it so much? ' she asked, stirring the cup of wine in her hand and watching the red liquid swirling within.

-'It gives them courage, I suppose', Thranduil laughed at the question.

-'Does it give you courage? '

-'Do you think I am in need of more? ' he asked, pulling her hand as to make her fall into his lap.

She snuggled into him and smiled with all her heart as she allowed herself to be lost inside his eyes, marveling at the beauty of his untamed spirit.

The King took a long look at the crown of freshly picked wildflowers resting on her head. The white petals against her dark hair made him think of the sea of stars in Varda's sky. He leaned in and kissed her without warning. He tasted of wine and honey. Sonja pulled herself back slightly and protested wordlessly as his fingers were working their way through the laces of her dress, but he did not stop and ruthlessly claimed her mouth again.

-'You of all I thought would be more patient. You are immortal after all', she scolded him, with a childish smile on her face.

He shook his head lightly and paused in his endeavor. There was plenty of time for that later.

-'I have something for you', Thranduil told her in his deep voice, watching her face light up in expectation.

He presented her with a small and delicate silver case, beautifully carved with Sindar symbols.

-'Open it! ' he urged her, examining the emotions transpiring on her face as she did so.

-'It is incredibly beautiful', she sighed when she discovered the pendant.

It was in effect very similar to the one that he himself wore around his neck, under his robe, close to his heart. Her small fingers traced the smooth edges of the round moonstone that shone brighter than starlight before her.

-'Allow me', he pleaded in her ear and secured the necklace gently around her neck.

Her entire body shivered under the touch of his fingers on her skin and her hand rose to meet the stone, cold against her chest.

-'It shall remind me of your eyes, always', she told him, then turned to place a soft kiss on his lips.

The scent of the blossoms hung heavy in the air around them, almost intoxicating the horizon with new life.

Thranduil set himself down in the soft grass and closed his eyes. He was lying still and peaceful almost like he was contemplating eternity. His hair was spread out on the ground, glowing with golden and orange hues in the sunset air that filtered through the branches of the old woods.

He felt her soft, dark strands brushing against his nose and lips, delicate and ticklish on his skin and when the elf opened his eyes to look at her, she could swear she was staring into the depths of time itself.

Sonja raised an eyebrow at him, but his stoic mask betrayed neither thought nor feeling.

-'You look even more serious upside-down', she told him as she was leaning over his face, studying the sharp lines of his jaw and cheeks.

-'Shshh, listen! ' he said and his voice was calm and soft like the breeze of spring.

Sonja watched him closing his eyes again. His hands were resting at his sides, caressing every blade of grass beneath his long fingers. His chest rose as he inhaled deeply. She was all but sure that he could just stay there and wait for the grass to grow under his touch and not be bothered by the time passing around him.

-'It speaks to you? The forest? ' she asked him after a while.

-'The wood speaks to all who know how to listen', came the King's reply. 'Every tree has a story to tell. Some of them were burnt but they endured the fire and got revived; some of them were cut, some were torn by winds. Yet every year there is new life blooming here. '

-'Can you talk back to it? '

A sudden smile was born in the corner of Thranduil's mouth.

-'You should try it, maybe you will get the answers you seek', he told her, but did not expect for her to actually take him on his dare.

Sonja got herself of the ground, pacing slowly towards the nearest tree. She ran her fingers over the rough bark and rested her forehead against the trunk.

-'I love you, forest', she called out loud and a few birds flew out from the overhead branches.

She remained standing there in silence, like she was waiting for an answer to echo back at her.

The sight of her attempting her dialogue with the ancient oak tree amused the King but at the same time it made his heart fill with joy. Her words were true, he could feel the warmth of her love radiating through every breeze of the forest, a feeling he had never hoped he would know again. The more he looked at her, the more he could not will himself to think of anything else. Walking silently behind her, Thranduil wrapped her in his arms and placed his right hand over hers on her stomach.

-'My beautiful human', he said softly, kissing the top of her head.

She wove her fingers into his, feeling completely lost in his embrace. He raised the other hand and strong fingers tangled in her hair to expose the soft skin of her neck. He leaned down to bite her gently and taste the sweetness of her flesh. Thranduil resumed his mission to undress her. He was strong and green, much like the trees growing tall in this magical forest. His forest. The ancient Woodland Realm. He lifted her with ease and pinned her back against the old trunk, her legs hooked over his hips.

-'Tell me you want me', he breathed into her ear, his body taking over, his blood running hot and fast in his veins, like wildfire.

She grabbed onto the fabric of his outer robe and kissed him hungrily. He smiled, surprised. She pulled his head back, her fingers locked in his silken strands. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed with desire. And she looked him right in the eyes. She could see her own reflection in their blue, immortal shine, so clear and so intense they were, sparkling with a husky inner smile that marked the crease between his brows. He wished to speak but Sonja brushed her thumb over his lower lip, sealing the words inside his mouth forever.

She pushed him just enough when she caught him off-guard. He stumbled and fell on his back, all the while not averting his eyes from hers, like being trapped in an enchantment. She lowered herself into his lap, facing him, before he could get any chance to protest for not being the one in control. She kept her eyes focused into his while she tightened her legs around his hips, watching as his senses abandoned all defenses.

Thranduil raised his hands and brushed his fingers in fascination against the exposed scar on her stomach, then moved them upwards in a slow caress and she moaned and arched her back for him. Their eyes met again.

The elf lifted his torso up from the soft grass, and cupped her face with his palms, bringing it closer to his own until their foreheads were joined. He whispered a few words to her that she could not understand, as he was no longer speaking the common tongue. His breath was fire against her skin. Sonja shuddered as his lips travelled slowly down her neck, tasting her skin, before claiming her mouth once more. His hands then found their way into her hair, his fingers tangled in her dark locks and he tilted her head back so he could watch her losing herself.

-'Thranduil... ' she murmured softly into the sky, causing his heart to nearly stop at the sound of his name.

He felt her nails carving into his back in sweet agony. He groaned and his mind froze for a moment to reflect on their unusual lovemaking. It was uncommon for a King to relinquish control like that, especially for this King, but to his great surprise he liked it.

The night fell almost unexpectedly over the forest.

Thranduil climbed back into the saddle and reached down to help Sonja settle herself in front of him on the horse, fingers tight on her forearms, lifting her up like she was a feather. His left arm locked around her waist, pulling her close into him and he wrapped her in his crimson cloak to make sure she would be warm enough. There was a long ride back to the palace, but the elf knew every road in his woods by heart.

As they were approaching the walls, the path became lit by hundreds of lanterns, hanging from the tangled tree branches, dancing slowly in the breeze, like fireflies.

The King felt her back falling softly against his chest and her head resting to the side, on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed with heavy sleep as she dreamt of him, standing in the moonlight, naked. Thranduil smiled when he read her thoughts. And he knew in that moment that he would rather have one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand, than spend eternity without ever knowing her.

-'What am I to do with you, my beautiful human? '


	12. Pain

The orc looked rabid as he flung his dark blade close to her ears. Sonja dodged the blow and the orc fell forward, accidentally hitting another of his kind. Sonja turned quickly, raising her elbow and hitting the orc behind her right in the middle of his face, shattering his nose. She grabbed a dagger from his belt and threw it at an incoming attacker, then turned around with the sword in her left hand and she let a savage cry escape her lips while she cut the one next to her in half.

More orcs rushed from the cover of the woods, waving their weapons as they approached her. Sonja took a step back. She was struggling to regain her composure, gripping tightly on the hilt of her sword. The blade whipped through the sunset air, as she struck down the first to approach her.

Orc blood sprayed her face and many others fell dead on the ground in a flash. Thranduil was standing tall behind them, black and red staining his blue tunic. The red blood was his, a dagger deep in his right shoulder. The pain was nothing. He had known so much more.

-'Move!' he cried at her to dive out of the way.

She did and he blocked the thrown axe coming her way with his twin blades.

Thranduil was impressed by her skills with the sword and the courage in her heart. He had always considered her in need of protection, fragile.

-'You followed me? ' Sonja asked, feeling surprised by his presence there, so far from his palace.

-'I heard the voice of the forest. It called to me. What were you thinking? ' he asked in a harsh tone, demanding she explained herself - why was she not in his palace like he had commanded?

Before she could answer a new wave of dark creatures overran them.

The King's two swords glistened in the sun and he spun through the enemy ranks, laying black bodies down at his feet as he took down orc after orc. The smell of their foul blood disgusted him, but he enjoyed ending their miserable lives. He enjoyed killing. His eyes were cold as steel, his gaze savage under his brows.

They were greatly outnumbered by the orcs, having to fight multiple opponents at the same time. Sonja was soon engaged by two ferocious beasts with wide mouths and slant eyes, their skin black as the night. One tried to surprise her by flanking her right side, but she lay low and spun unexpectedly, severing his leg artery with her blade. A wave of black blood rushed out and the orc screamed. He screamed so loud that the entire forest echoed around them. Then he crashed at her feet and died in seconds. Her other attacker was much larger than the rest of the orcs and she could barely block his heavy blows. Thranduil threw his left sword deep into his chest, sealing his fate. The other sword slipped from his fingers as he felt the strength leaving his right arm entirely. His mind called out to Legolas and the hope that his guards would reach them in time.

Sonja saw the elf defenseless, barely keeping to his feet. The dagger in his shoulder was poisoned. She knew she had to get to him, but a heavy blow in the back of her head numbed all her senses. Warm blood was dripping on her shoulders and soon everything started to turn dark as she fell to her knees, then all the way down to the forest floor.

* * *

* Earlier that day*

The King started to regret how he had handled the conversation with her. He should not have snapped the way he had. He sank in his cushioned chair and poured himself some wine to appease his nerves. But anger was not the real emotion that flooded his heart.

Merfinnil was concerned. Sonja was planning to leave the Greenwood. She felt hurt and foolish at the same time. Merfinnil had hoped to make her change her mind about this, but to no avail. Her human friend proved to be more hot-headed than any elf.

Words of Sonja's plans reached Thranduil and when she refused to see him, the elf threatened to break down the door to her room. He overreacted. Again. But her stubborn refusal to let him in wounded his ego. The one person he needed most in the world was the one he was driving away with his foul temper. He leaned his forehead against the door, taking a few slow breaths and resting for a while on the warm wood, ready to surrender the fight. Yet nothing more came out of his lips when he tried to apologize.

-'I told her she was not to leave these walls', he confessed to Legolas.

-'Did you think that maybe she does not like to be ordered around? '

-'Be that as it may, I am still King. '

-'Truly, father, I do not think there was ever any doubt in this matter. What happened between you two? '

Thranduil exhaled deeply.

-'I made a mistake, Legolas. And now I fear I would find myself unable to draw breath if she were to go. '

He turned and looked absently out the window as he reflected on his own words.

-'You love her! ' Legolas spoke and watched his father's eyes widen at the thought.

-'I... No... I cannot', Thranduil replied, tensing his jaw, unable to admit the obvious.

-'Does she know? '

-'What? ' he asked, throwing his son a cold and indifferent stare.

-'That you love her. '

-'Where is she? ' the King asked abruptly, realizing he couldn't feel her presence in the palace anymore.

* * *

* Present timeline *

The poison and the blood loss from his wound brought him to his knees, his mind nearly going insane at the sight of her in the creature's arms. Her face kept coming in and out of focus before his eyes. The orc grinned savagely and took Sonja over his shoulder, disappearing with her into the forest. She was dead or unconscious, the King could not tell.

He urged himself to get up and follow, continuing to ignore the flare of pain in his injured side. He pulled his sword out of the orc's body and kept walking, slowly dragging the blade behind him, with his good arm, and scraping the ground with its silver tip. At that point, everything faded away, the sounds, the smells, even the ground under his feet. He collapsed in a blurry haze of pain and lost consciousness.

At times, he briefly regained some of his senses. He had not been slain by the orcs. How much time had passed with him lying there, with his face buried in the dirt, he could not say. A voice called out to him as a spinning darkness started to claim his mind once more, terrifying numbness filling his body. He recognized the voice. It was Legolas.


	13. After 6 years

Thranduil paced for days inside his chamber, clutching the little box close to his chest, the only reminder he had left of her. The silence was loud, deafening. Her memory inside his thoughts was so intense that he feared it might drive him mad. He could almost feel her again, next to him, but the reality was that the connection he once shared with her was now severed. She was lost to him, dead to the world.

The elven guards could not find any trace of her, not even his son could. They searched the woods for days, but to no avail. Arvellon saved the King's life, removing the dagger and bringing him back to his senses only to have him lose himself at the thought that he had broken his promise to protect her. His heart sank over and over again, until he retreated inside himself, so much so that Legolas feared the Greenwood will begin to decay again. He felt compelled to once more see to the welfare of the kingdom in his father's stead.

In the late autumn afternoon, he came to visit Thranduil and found him staring in silence out the window overlooking the forest. The trees were now barren of leaves, in expectation of the coming winter. Six years had passed.

The death of his mother had been hard on his adar and Legolas nearly lost him to Mandos as well. He began to worry again, but tried his best to hide his anguish from his father.

-I bring you news, Ada!

Legolas informed him of the progress that the human army has made against the orc invaders. They were preparing their last stand at the gates of Gondor. Following the death of Aragorn's son a couple of years before, due to a strange sickness, the gondorin Queen, Helena, was now leading the army into battle. Words of her victories and courage had spread fast through all of Middle Earth and most human kingdoms had sent her troops in support of her endeavors.

-I would seek your permission to pledge the elven army to her cause, Legolas said. She is battling the shadow. If we claim victory, we might at last vanquish the orc filth from our land.

Thranduil's gaze moved from the window to the hearth behind his son, his attention fixed upon the flames. The prospect of war seemed to bring a visible change on the King's face. If anything, it would provide means of distraction from the numbness he was feeling within.  
-You need not worry so much, Legolas. My first duty is to my people, it's always been thus. I will never abandon them. Or you. Let the elf continue to grieve, ion nin, for the King cannot. The King must not.

-Adar, I did not mean to… I wish there was something I could do…

-Prepare the troops, Legolas! It seems the elves are going to war once more.

* * *

A week later, Thranduil and his forces were crossing the Anduin, entering the kingdom of Men. From atop the hill near Minas Tirith, they were met with an overview of the human troops regrouping in the valley below. The soldiers were all lined up and standing at attention. Their numbers were indeed impressive.

The army ranks parted and four riders came forth through the new-formed passage. One of them continued to ride up the hill to greet the Elvenking.

-Suilad, heruamin! He spoke in the native tongue of the Sindar, placing his hand on his heart and then extending it towards the King.

-Suilad, mellon nin! Thranduil replied.

-Queen Helena has been expecting you. The arrival of your troops, as allies and friends, honors us. I am Urhol, son of Uther my lord.

The elf bowed his gaze as a sign of acknowledgement and respect towards the human envoy.

-My son, Legolas, Thranduil introduced him with a gesture of the hand.

-Mae govannen, my Prince. I am honored.

-As am I. I shall gladly fight and bleed beside our human brothers and pray to Eru he will grant us victory.

Pleasantries exchanged, it was time for the armies to march for the White City where they would prepare for battle.

From the back of his war elk, the King could not help but stare at the other three riders that had stopped down in the valley, in front of the human lines. The distance was great but his elven eyes could easily distinguish the figures of two men, dressed in heavy armor. He even recognized one of them; it was Prince Alistair of the southern kingdoms. Thranduil had known his father well during the battles fought in the War of the Ring. Riding between them, on her white horse, the human Queen was dressed in mithril, which made her shine brighter than the hot sun in summer. She turned to face her troops and addressed them a few spirited and carefully thought out words, meant to inspire and hearten them for the days to come.

Thranduil felt his heart freeze at the sound of her voice. He desperately tried to read her, but he could not. Her mind was closed, sealed off from any attempt to reach her inner thoughts.

The valley before him resounded with thousands of voices rising in unison to answer the call, before starting their march towards the city, through the fields of Pelennor.

Legolas signaled the elves to follow and as he watched them go, he was reminded of the bloodied battle he had once witnessed there, before the destruction of Sauron's ring, during the third age. He then turned to his father, beside him, feeling his anguish at the sight of the Queen.

-I could sense your mind, he voiced with concern. I thought it too at first. But it cannot be her; she's gone. Ada, please! Stop tormenting yourself with the memory of her. Rid your soul of past shadows or I fear you might fade away, regardless of your will.

-Why hasn't she come to me? Thranduil replied, immersed in deep thought.

His eyes were still following her as she moved further and further away, leading the army of men. There was no mistake in his heart now. She was her, Helena was Sonja.

Alistair was riding beside her and from the looks of it they were very well acquainted with one another. They were engaged in an intense conversation and smiled often at each other. Thranduil felt his hands automatically curling into fists at his sides. An unfamiliar feeling took root inside the King's heart, swirling within him, rising to choke him. He was jealous.

Still a great distance behind them, the Elvenking noticed that the other man accompanying the Queen seemed to carry another, smaller person, on the back of his horse. It could have easily been a child, he thought to himself. The Queen went to him and brought him onto her horse, holding him lovingly in her arms, then continued to ride towards the main gate. It was unmistakably a child, a boy, no more than five or six years of age, with sunshine hair, and for a brief moment it reminded the elf of a young Legolas. Thranduil's heart stopped once more.


	14. The Queen of Men

The city of Minas Tirith was a sight to behold. Heavily fortified, it was built into the face of a cliff and stood seven levels high. Dwarves offered their help in the reconstruction of its walls and gates, to undo the damage that had been dealt to its structures during the War of the Ring. It was born anew, from stone and mithril, more fair than it had ever been, even in the days of its first glory.

The humans offered their new found allies a warm welcome. Arriving inside the grand hall, the Elvenking's eyes kept searching for her, but to his profound disillusion she seemed absent from the night's feast. His gaze found the child instead, playing with a wooden sword against an invisible opponent. He had enchanting blue eyes and white skin and his laughter was pure and cheerful, like a soft breeze. The elf could not look away from him.

-Forgive me, my King, you seem quite taken with our young Prince. A fair little man, is he not? Just like his father.'

Thranduil felt his heart flutter at the thought. He turned to face the servant maiden standing beside him, ready to refill his cup.

-'Indeed he is', he replied. 'I am almost envious of his long blond hair', he admitted with a smile.

-'I think it to be a trait from his father, the King, his great-great-grandmother, more precise, the White Lady Galadriel. '

-'He is Aragorn's and Arwen's grandchild? ' he asked, feeling his joy diminish in an instant and unsure how to react to the new feeling taking over him. Did he really hope it was his own?

-'Sure he is', the maiden replied, a bit puzzled by the question. 'Poor little thing, his mother died in childbirth. Queen Helena was kind enough to adopt him as her own. '

-'Queen Helena is not his mother? ' Thranduil asked, surprising the servant again.

Of course he knew in his mind that Sonja was unable to have children, but still a faint shroud of hope lingered in his heart over the years.

-'Well, no. She and the kind, their marriage wasn't like that', she tried to explain feeling a little awkward to be speaking of it. 'When King Eldarion saved her in the forest, she had been attacked by orcs, blood oozing from her head wound. She had no memory of who she was or what had happened to her. He brought her to the palace where she instantly became endeared by our little Prince. He was only a few months old at the time. He needed a mother. And the King needed a Queen. His majesty was gravely ill already. He had to think about his son and his future and the future of the kingdom. Queen regent Helena is a righteous ruler and she is kind with her subjects. He could not have made a finer choice. '

So that is why Sonja seemed to have no recollection of him and why he felt their bond so brutally severed all those years ago. She had lost her memories. She had become strong and wise and proud, a Queen. She had become Helena.

-'Where they not in love? ' the elf asked, wanting to satisfy his curiosity.

-'I am sure the King cared deeply for her. But after the death of his beloved Queen, I don't think he was ready to love another. Helena was more like his sister or a friend in need; I guess this is the right way to put it. '

Thranduil continued to make small talk with those present without really paying much attention to the words that came out of their mouths. His heart and mind were absent from the room. Half way into dinner, he excused himself, stepping out through the arched door.

* * *

Out on the hallway was quiet, the sound of the party felt like a distant memory. His gaze found Sonja,, strolling down the corridor towards the terrace. Moving with stealth, he watched her from the shadows, trailing her from behind the columns. She walked in beauty, like the starry night of Varda's sky. Thranduil moved to catch up with her but he was interrupted by another, approaching from the opposite direction. It was Prince Alistair. The elf hid himself from sight, waiting for her to be alone again.

Alistair approached Sonja, bowing his head discreetly when he met her eyes. She did not stop in her way, just sent him a faint smile and passed by him, barely brushing her shoulder to his. Alistair grabbed tightly on her left wrist, forcing her to stop in place. Sonja turned and cast him an angry look, surprised all the same by his actions.

-'Unhand me! ' she commanded in a low voice.

The Prince grabbed her even tighter, before speaking:

-'How long has it been since the King died? Two years? How long since you felt the touch of another? ' he asked raising his other hand and caressing her cheek.

Thranduil's fists clenched at his sides. He did not like the way he was speaking to her and less so the way he was touching her. He wanted to rush over there, but was afraid that he would not be able to stop himself.

Sonja turned away from Alistair's touch and replied even angrier than before:

-'Do not dare speak to me about him in that tone! I appreciate the support of your troops here, but I will not allow you to cross me like this. Unhand me! ' she demanded again.

-'You know how I feel about you, Helena. All these years I kept my distance, watching you with him. You cannot deny me... '

-'Is everything alright, my Queen? ' asked a guard, approaching the pair.

-'Prince Alistair was just going to his chambers', Sonja replied, hinting that the guard should escort him to make sure he will not lose his way again and reach the Queen's floor.

Alistair followed the guard reluctantly and Sonja continued her walk to reach the terrace. It was a terrible wind outside and strong gusts came and went, playing in her dark long hair. She let her eyes roam beyond the river to the lands that lay far to the north, inexplicably searching the horizons for a distant call that whispered of the Woodland Realm. She then lifted her gaze, staring absently at the grey clouds above, before voicing a prayer addressed to Eru.

Sonja turned to retire to her chambers and that is when their eyes met, for the first time after six long years. Standing in the middle of the corridor was this tall beautiful stranger with pale blue eyes and long silver hair. For a moment she had the feeling that she was supposed to know him from somewhere.

The elf fought the urge to take her in his arms to kiss her. Instead, he did not speak a single word and somehow managed to banish every emotion from his face. She approached him slowly offering him her right hand. The passing years had been kind with her, if anything she looked even more beautiful than the last time he knew her.

-'King Thranduil, I presume. We thank you for the support of your troops in this delicate and urgent matter. I hope you journeyed well. '

He bowed his head slightly, reaching to kiss her hand. He had so much he wanted to tell her, yet he could not breathe a single word.

-'Rest well, my King. Tomorrow we shall meet upon the battlefield', Sonja added before strolling past him and disappearing in the darkness of the corridor, leaving him with just her faint, sweet smell and the memory of the small scar that his lips had touched on the back of her hand.


	15. Memories

It was a quiet night. Too quiet. Sonja feared the coming dawn, she could feel something terrible was about to happen. The orcs of Gundabad were numerous and well-armed. If anything, being free from the grasp of Sauron made them more dangerous than ever. They were in a way leaderless, acting solely on pure hate against the other races.

The dwarves felt safe inside their mountain and refused to offer any help to the human kingdoms in this endeavor. Having the support of Thranduil's army came as a pleasant surprise in this hour of need. The elves were skilled warriors with magical crafted weapons and armor and their King, legend has it, the greatest warrior to have ever lived in Middle Earth. She had heard these tales about him, all depicted him as wise but arrogant, unforgiving and cold. They sang of his skills with the sword on the field of battle and of the ancient magic that he wields. He had survived the breath of the dragon and the wars with Morgoth and Sauron.

She could not stop thinking about their earlier encounter, brief as it had been, it made her feel uneasy. His silence above all, his freezing lips on her hand and his incredibly perfect composure. But then there had been something else, something she could not comprehend just yet, a spark that brought his cold eyes to life as soon as he met her gaze.

With these thoughts in her head, Sonja blew out the candles and buried her face under the silken sheets, well aware that many of her soldiers will not live to see another night fall over the mountains of Middle Earth. Will she?

Her eyes took a moment to adjust in the dim light coming from the night sky. In her short lifetime, the stars have stayed in their places just as they have for countless lifetimes before her own. She was sure they would remain unaffected whether she and her men should live or die. It was unsettling.

A subtle breeze against her cheek, - she rose high against her pillow, surprised at the fact that she was no longer alone in her chamber.

-'Dare you spy upon your Queen? ' she asked defiant. 'Show yourself! '

The elf stepped out of the shadows, following her command, his hair reflecting the pale moonlight. He looked down at her, with his long eyelashes resting on his high cheekbones and as he approached the bed, she could see his glance laying on her without interruption.

-'Do you not feel fear at all? ' he asked her in a grave, intense voice, that betrayed a slight trace of concern. 'There is no guard posted at your door. '

More than anything, she felt puzzled by this late visit as she immediately recognized the Elvenking. How dared he enter her chambers unannounced? But then he was right, there was no guard stationed at her door, nor has there ever been any. She had no need for one. Sonja managed to suppress both her anger and surprise before answering the King.

-'I have no need for guards', she replied sharply, as she reached to grab a steel sword from under her pillow.

Extending her arm with a quick movement she pointed the blade at him. The elf was getting dangerously close, too close for comfort. She did not want to underestimate his power and the threat that he potentially was to her.

He didn't even blink and no muscle in his face betrayed him. His pupils were narrow and fixed on her.

-'Why have you come? ' she asked him.

His thick eyebrows frowned slightly at the question, but he voiced no answer. Instead he drew nearer, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. The tip of the blade was now touching the pale skin of his neck and he could feel the cold metal slightly piercing his flesh. A few drops of blood fell red against the white sheets as she would not withdraw her blade. When she felt him pushing his neck even stronger against the sharp tip, her hand started to slightly lose its grip on the hilt and she gazed deep into his eyes, in silent questioning.

-'You will not harm me, Queen! ' he finally spoke in a confident tone, low and deep, keeping his chin high and his gaze fixed on hers.

She froze for a moment as she watched him grasping the blade with his right hand. A fine cut was lined against his palm, staining the steel with the warmth of his immortal blood. Still she did not drop her sword. She was mesmerized, too lost inside his piercing blue eyes now, to think about anything else. With a swift pull he freed the weapon from her hands and let it fall on the stone floor. The sound of clinging metal startled Sonja as if she were in a dream. The Elvenking was using his magic on her, of that she was certain, but she was not so sure she wanted to escape the spell anymore.

The smell of his blood made her think of the coming battle. It had a hypnotic grasp over her so when he gently offered his hand, she pressed it close to her mouth, licking the wound and the oozing blood. Thranduil watched her silently as the metallic taste invaded her senses, making her look savage and hungry for more. When he managed to free his palm from hers, his fingers caressed her soft, bloodied lips and drifted over her chin, all the way back to her neck. He could hear her breathing, faster and faster until his hand locked tightly on her neck, pushing her back against the bedrest and making her almost gasp for air. She did not seem to mind it; there was no trace of fear in her gaze. Her dark eyes were so lost in his own that he felt he was now in total control.

He drew closer until he was able to feel her shallow breaths reflected upon his cheek. How different she appeared to him today, his frail, broken human, made into a strong Queen.

A deep passion overtook him and he surrendered to it, allowing it to take root inside his heart. She felt his mouth crumbling onto hers, pressing his lips against her soft ones and claiming them with endless kisses. Sonja did not fight it. His mouth was hot and wet and she let herself be carried away by his movements and caresses. He could feel her burning under his touch but he was unable to gaze into her soul like he once used to. Part of her was still missing, hidden deep inside her lost memories.

And then she suddenly pulled herself off of him, pushing his head back and staring intensely upon his chest. Her eyes fell upon his necklace and she felt like she recognized the round, luminous stone adorning it. She turned slightly to her left, reaching for the hollowed book resting on her nightstand. She opened it and pulled out an identical necklace, showing it to him, deeply surprised at the similarity.

-'Did we know each other? ' she asked while swallowing the knot in her throat, her voice losing all its previous confidence.

The King's eyes lit up at the sight of her necklace and a smile was born in the corner of his mouth. He took the necklace and her small hands in his and closed the gap between the two of them, bringing his face so close to her right ear, that she could feel his warm breath on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. They were both very still in the silence that was surrounding them, entranced by this invisible bond forming across the little space between them. Sonja felt her heart was racing to explode out of her chest and there was nothing she could do to stop it. And that is when he broke the silence whispering her true name, like an echo from the depths of time.

-'Sonja... ' his voice reverberated softly in her ear, like a warm breeze of summer against her face and she felt a wave of memories flooding her mind uncontrollably.

She opened her mouth gasping for air, eyes gazing wide and wet into the dark room. Her chin and lower lip were shaking, betraying her emotions. Thranduil cradled her in his arms, leaving Sonja to gaze absently above his shoulder, until her deep shudders eventually subsided.

-'Brann' the name escaped her lips without notice and she sighed deeply.

Sonja felt the elf's hands loosen their hold around her and she turned to face him once more. His gaze dropped down at the necklace in her small hands as shiny tears were clinging to his dark lashes. But he would not allow them to fall. He knew all too well the consequences of restoring her memory. The King felt her leaning towards him and resting her forehead gently against his own, cupping his face with her palms.

-'Thank you', she whispered, and then kissed him deeply.

He pulled her hands away from his face in silence and looked into her eyes once more. A deep pain was etched inside them, rippling in the black sea of stars. And he could read her thoughts with ease again, just like he had when they first met. He let himself feel what she was feeling, the pain, the sadness, the guilt, the love. But they were not the memories of Brann that haunted her soul. Her dreams were all of him, the fair Elvenking, the one that healed her pains and gave her life purpose again.

She wanted to throw her arms around him, but her body would not listen, she wanted to scream she loved him, but the words wouldn't come out. ''I love you, Thranduil!'' she kept repeating endlessly in her mind. He smiled and brushed his fingers against her lips and she understood in that moment that he was there, in her mind, in her soul and there was no spell or magic that had brought them back together, nothing else except the unbreakable bond that they shared.

-'And I you, my love', he whispered out loud, his mouth searching to meet hers once more. There was no denying what he felt, after millennia of sorrow, he had entrusted his heart to another once more.

And she gave in to his will, surrendering completely into the night.


	16. Little Prince

At first light, the bell from the tower started signalling that enemies were approaching the walls. Sonja lifted her head abruptly from her pillow, awoken by the sound.

-'They're here', she whispered as if trying to chase the nightmare away.

Thranduil rose beside her and placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder, trying to hang on to what they have shared a little longer. He feared this moment more than he cared to admit. She was alive and she was back in his arms; the thought of losing her again was unbearable.

Her breath was uneven and he could feel the anxiety and adrenaline taking control over her body.

-'Get your armor, get dressed! Your people need you', she asked, jumping from the bed and looking for her own clothes.

There was no more time to waste. It was all happening fast now.

They both dressed in silence, a myriad of thoughts going through their minds, yet no more words were spoken.

-'I'm scared, mother! ' they heard a child's voice calling from the threshold.

Sonja dropped to her knees and opened her arms to him.

-'Come to me, my little Prince! ' she asked him, her eyes wet with tears.

The boy ran to her and crashed into her chest, embracing her with his small hands. His chin was resting on her shoulder and his blue eyes could not stop looking at Thranduil and his beautiful, long hair. The Elvenking smiled back at him as he allowed a warm thrill to invade his heart.

-'Are you an elf? ' the child finally got over his shyness and asked.

-'Yes, I am', he replied in a soft voice. 'My name is Thranduil Oropherion. '

-'He is a King, little Prince', Sonja explained to the child.

-'Like father? ' he asked in the most innocent way.

Sonja turned and looked up at the elf. Her gaze traced his tall, handsome figure as he stood before her, dressed in his royal armor. She remained hooked into his warm eyes and part of her felt as if she was seeing him, the real him, for the very first time. She found herself secretly wishing the child was theirs and his sudden smile betrayed the fact that he was sensing her thoughts. Sonja closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding until that moment, before being able to speak again.

-'Yes. Like father', she replied kissing the boy on top of his head. 'You need to be brave now. Promise me you will stay inside the walls! You need to be safe. Promise me! ' she asked looking into his young eyes.

-'I promise, mother. '

-'You are my sweet boy. I love you!' she added before releasing him from her embrace.

Thranduil watched as the boy left the room and once the door was closed, he turned to Sonja once more, moving to join her on the balcony.

-'Motherhood suits you', he said with a warm smile. 'Don't worry, we will keep him safe. The White City shall not fall on this day. '

He approached her and laid the sweetest kiss on her temple, then he held her in a tight embrace, listening to the beat of her heart and the whispers of her thoughts. He did not wish the moment to end.

-'I'm scared too', Sonja eventually spoke amidst the silence.

-'You are brave, you are a Queen! Never forget that', he replied pulling her whole being even closer into his chest. 'I vow to always be here when you need me, my beautiful human. '

-'I'm sorry… For everything. I love you', she whispered.

-'Goheno nin. It is I who should ask for forgiveness. I never should have let that happen to you, meleth nin. '

Sonja looked deep into Thranduil's eyes and placed a hand on his cheek. Her hand slid down slowly and rested over the elf's heart, before she turned from him, now facing the great mountains.

-'Look! ' Thranduil called softly, pointing at the sky, leaning against the wall behind him and keeping his arm securely around her waist and her body pressed against his own.

The sun bathed the entire valley in a crimson light making them lose themselves in silent beauty. But those same rays that should have brought warmth to a new dawn slowly reminded them of the coming battle and the blood that would be spilled that day. His hands wounded tighter around her, like they belonged about her waist. Her head rested gently on his shoulder just where he loved her most, where he wanted her to stay forever, even now when the war was etching itself between them.

-'I'm ready', she breathed the words into the wind. 'It's time! '

* * *

Alistair surprised the Elvenking, just as he was walking out of the Queen's chamber.

-'King Thranduil, did you lose your way? ' he addressed him in a defying tone.

The elf threw him a mere glimpse, not halting his walk to bother with the mortal. He was keen on meeting his soldiers in the courtyard and order them to start the attack on the invaders.

-'Maybe there are a few things that need to be made clear here', the human insisted.

-'Which are? ' the King finally asked, his eyes narrowing as he stopped his pace and turned around.

The Prince stepped closer. He was tall, but not as tall as Thranduil, whom didn't flinch under his intense stare.

-'I think you overstayed your welcome, elf! ' he hissed. 'Helena is mine! '

Thranduil's face turned dark. His right hand rose and he grabbed Alistair's neck in a strong choke, pinning his back against the wall. His feet could no longer reach the floor.

-'You fool! Do you really think she would love someone like you? You sicken me. You are not to touch her again! Do not test my power and do not tempt my fury! ' he commanded, pushing him harder against the wall.

His voice was colder than ice and harder than steel. It was clearly not a request, but a severe threat.

-'You must release me, you must...' Alistair tried to speak while struggling for breaths.

-'Must I? '

He felt the Prince fading under his grip and for a moment he was tempted not to weaken the hold on his throat. Just a few years ago, he would not have hesitated to take his life, but things were different now. She made everything different. And now she was his again.

The King watched the terror born in Alistair's eyes as he came to face the prospect of his death. His back was hurting from being slammed into the wall and his chest was fighting the inability to breathe. At the last second, Thranduil withdrew his hand and moved away, leaving the human behind, crumbled on the floor, gasping for air and burning with hate.


	17. Until dawn - part 1

The battle cries and the sound of steel resounded from the fields.

Orcs poured into the valley from all sides, marching towards the White City in one endless tide. The armies clashed at dawn before the gates, shields slamming shields, swords meeting swords, screams of death and hymns of triumph all breaking in one breath, so loud it hurt and roared and rocked the earth. And so the siege on Gondor had begun.

Thranduil charged forward, implacable and unyielding as a winter storm, his swords steady in his hands, commanding respect and admiration. The elves followed him into battle. The fate of the many was resting on the edge of their blades.

Sonja raised her head and looked across the fields. The snow had turned dark red around her, countless bodies resting at her feet. Sometime in the past half hour she had lost her shield while fending off the attack of a cave troll. She felt lucky that was all she'd lost.

She took a moment to recover her breath before an orc shouted and slashed furiously towards her. She parried a few times, enough to make him lose his balance and focus. The orc screamed as Sonja's sword bit into his back. The scent of foul blood rose in the air and she twisted the blade before pulling it out of the lifeless body.

-'Your horse, my Queen', said Urhol, handing her the reigns of her steed. 'We need to make our advance on the left flank while the enemy lines are weak. '

Sonja nodded and mounted the horse.

-'Rally the men! ' she commanded, raising her sword and pointing it forward. 'Charge! '

The horse sprinted and she lunged to deal a killing blow, her sword parting armor and flesh. The metal screeched and dark blood spattered all over her face, but she merely blinked.

The riders followed her, cleaving their way through the enemy ranks, rushing to clear a path for the rest of the troops.

On the right flank, Legolas and his archers were laying waste on the enemy, silver arrows never missing their targets. And when the arrows ran low, they hurled into battle, sword in hand, and the ground streamed blood at their backs.

The Prince of Greenwood was the one to fell the orc commander. He barely dodged the blow of his massive hammer and spun around to throw a dagger that met the orc's left eye. The beast screamed and shrieked but as thick blood came welling down across his eyes and face, it seemed the wound only made him angrier. He reached for his hammer, ready to deliver another blow, but alas, he fell from multiple arrows striking the vulnerable flesh of his neck. Legolas came running towards the monstrous body, pulling his dagger free.

-'Keep up, father! ' he smirked at Thranduil as he continued on to the next orc.

The Elvenking smirked back. His twin blades were leaving a trail of swirling snow and blood as he made his way through the enemy lines.

It was nearly dusk when the horn of Gondor resounded in the freezing air. It seemed the orcs had been drawn back by the army of Men, unable to hold their lines to the east, just as Urhol anticipated.

Came night, the orcs would have the upper hand, their eyes accustomed to the world of darkness. And so it was that Thranduil found himself surrounded by orcs clad in black armor, grinning savagely with their jagged, yellow teeth, watching him with small, wicked eyes. One stepped forward, defiant.

-'Come, face me, elf scum! ' he laughed in the King's face.

Thranduil's brows furrowed and his eyes focused sharply on his opponent. The orc barred his teeth, then licked his lips with his dark tongue before charging, incredibly fast, through the snowy field.

The King spun out of the way, grasping the orc from behind, exposing his neck. He brought his sword up and drew it deeply across the black throat, slicing into the flesh until nearly severing the spine. He then shook the blood from his blade and moved forward, righteous and menacing, staring down at the few remaining orcs until finally their nerves broke and they scattered back into the shadows.

The right flank was clear.

* * *

Night drifted away and a new dawn's pale light broke across the darkness of the eastern sky.

Resting his eyes on the open field, his gaze found her, proud and tall upon her white horse. A daughter of Man, blooming in her world. She was unharmed. A big smile was illuminating her face in the dawn of their victory. The Elvenking felt as if he was falling in love with her all over again. She had never looked more wild, more fierce and beautiful than she appeared before him now.

When she located Thranduil amidst the crowd she discovered his eyes already upon her. He placed his hand over his heart and then extended his arm towards her and she did the same.

A sudden sharp pain rose in her back. She felt the cold blade piercing her flesh and nicking her ribs, then a wave of hot blood, slowly washing all pain away. She turned and found Alistair on a horse beside her, a dagger dripping with red in his hands. The image of Thranduil's face started to blur in the background, far away from where she was, but she could almost sense the terror born in his eyes as he came to realize that he would not reach her in time.

Alistair decided that if she would not give herself to him, then no other man shall ever have her, much less the arrogant elf.

Before he could deliver another blow, two arrows found their target piercing his chest and he died instantly. Legolas did not miss.

-'Go to her, Ada! '

For Thranduil, silence fell over the world. He watched in horror as his beloved dropped from the saddle, landing motionless in the frozen snow.


	18. Until dawn - part 2

He kneeled right next to her, in the red snow. Her clothes were soaked in her blood. Her cheeks were pale now and her chest was still. Thranduil could hear no heartbeat and feel no trace of breath against the back of his hand. He was holding her gently, lifting her head of the ground, unable to speak. It was as if for the first time in his life he did not know what he should do. It was all so sudden, it seemed so unreal still. Voices, many voices echoed in the background, but the words were all blurred and even the loudest shouts failed to reach his ears.

Legolas joined his father, remaining just a few paces away and staring down at Alistair's body. He couldn't help but blame himself. If his eyes had been keener, if his hands faster, if his bow... No. There was nothing that he could have done to prevent this from happening. He glanced at his father next as he held Sonja closer to his chest, rocking her in his arms. She looked like she was sleeping, but with each passing moment she was becoming colder and colder to the touch.

The human generals insisted she should be taken inside the walls, but the King would not allow anyone to touch her as he stood guard over her body. He was inconsolable in his grief.

Death claims any man, for such is the curse of mortals. And yet Thranduil felt he could not bear the parting, not this soon, not after he had just found her again. Not after she told him she loved him and he, he loved her back.

He was always able to hide his pain behind his self-disciplined demeanour. His aloofness caused others to fear him. And now, burning tears were falling from his eyes down against her pale white face. He kissed her mouth and her forehead and buried his face in her black hair.

It was finally quiet. No more voices, no more faces. It was impossible for Thranduil to hear his own heartbeat now and he thought that he might fade away. The thought scared him. Not because he feared death, but because he knew his fea would be parted from hers forever. The smell of battle invaded his nostrils, grounding him like an anchor. He needed that.

Night fell again and he eventually lifted his face from her hair and looked towards the stars. His left cheek was hollow, his face badly scarred by fire. The magic used to conceal his old wounds was gone.

"Ada!" Legolas called, realizing what the King has done.

But Thranduil cared not. The face he has been trying to hide for past centuries was now exposed and, along with it, the pain in his soul.

"Turn from the shadow, Sonja, come back to me!" he pleaded in her ear.

The elf's pale eyes were wet with tears and shone in the night, as he looked to the stars once more. Bright lights of blue and green were dancing in the winter sky.

Long moments passed.

Sonja felt his lips placing gentle kisses on her brow. The pain in her back was entirely gone. Her eyes were heavy and her voice seemed lost to her, like coming out of a dream. Her chest rose as she inhaled the freezing air. A sigh escaped her lips.

Thranduil sensed the pain releasing his heart. He took her small hand in his and was almost surprised to feel its warmth again. Her other hand slowly rose to trace the outline of his scar, feeling the burnt flesh, rough and strange and cold. Sonja knew about the dragon but she never imagined the damage would be so grave. She wandered how he had survived such an injury. It was obvious that his body could not heal it, the magic of the flame was too strong still. Deep down she knew the marks on his face were not the only scars he bore. His wounds were deeper than flesh and he felt vulnerable in his pain. Her fingers brushed further over the bare muscle and Thranduil shut his eyes for but a moment, forgetting everything and everyone around him. He then pulled away from her touch.

"Don't!" he begged her.

"What happened? Why?"

"I had to. This magic, hiding my true face, it was the only way to bring you back to me."

"Bring me back? Thranduil, what did you do?"

Her voice betrayed her panic and when she noticed Alistair, dead beside her, the memories flooded her mind.

"I lost you, but I had you returned to me. Death has no power over you now. Immortality is yours, if you chose it."

Sonja rose her hand again to his face and his hair felt soft between her fingers, long fine strands that shimmered palely in the dim light. Her eyes travelled all over his features, while her mind searched for the meaning behind his words. She tugged at the collar of his tunic bringing his face closer and kissed his salty lips and his scars.

"I chose you. I chose life", she whispered to him and her mouth curled into a faint smile.

Thranduil felt her shivering. She was still so very cold. She clung to him and he got her off the ground, gently, and wrapped her in his royal cloak. It smelled of winter and it smelled of the forest. Sonja felt inebriated with the scent of his skin and the warmth of his embrace.

"I am here, ind nin." he spoke softly. "Always and forever, I am yours."

"Ind nin? "

"My heart."

* * *

Hello everyone. Along with this chapter I would like to tell everyone that bears any scars, physical or emotional, that there is no shame in your marks. They are a part of your story. They show the battles you have fought and won and are a sign of strength, not weakness. Thanks again for reading my fic.


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